A person I loved has died. I stand on shaky legs; missing the “before”, uneasy in the bereft “after”.
It was both too long and too short; I suppose whatever increment elapsed was the correct increment. Death is always on schedule to God.
I’m changed. I humbly reflect that I’m not the first to suffer this way. It doesn’t do any good at all. All I really know is it hurts and there’s no going back. This summer has literally cost a life.
I’ve done my best. Support for everyone. A firm handshake, warm words, desperately mustered confidence, a weak smile, a heartfelt hug, tears, a joke… whatever is needed and whatever I could muster. I’ve received the same. I clicked back into communities I’d long ago abandoned. Old relations were renewed in the crucible of loss. People I barely know told me about when I was “about so high”; holding up their hands as if time is all about height.
It has not been easy. No man is an island but I’m closer than most. People don’t like islands. The urge to saddle up and ride away was unbelievably strong. I stayed put. People need that. This is one of the times I exist for the benefit of others.
Personally, I wanted only isolation. The sincerity of good people expressing the deepest sympathy for my experience wore me down. They wouldn’t understand and they meant well, so I just smiled and took it.
The ceremony was meant to heal and it did; at least a little. A monument was placed. Good kind words were recited. They carefully kept the sod from the hole; to be replaced in short order. It was. The sod will take root again. So will I after a walk in the forest; or perhaps a dozen walks.
It is mandatory and cruel, but also true and beautiful, that one must re-enter the world of the living. I will re-enter my world on terms I understand. I’m an ill fit for the world where they had nice sandwiches and people reciting memories of my childhood. I see now the love to be found in community. I rejected that path decades ago. A price I paid without truly knowing its value. No regrets, but sometimes you visit your hometown to remember you belong nowhere in particular.
I’m back at my homestead. I’m tired, broke, exhausted, and spent. So many adjectives. They all hint at depletion. Emotionally, financially, physically, spiritually… where there was once surplus, there is emptiness.
I’m surprised how much I suffered by forced interaction with society. It was a time of sorrow but it was only a couple months after all. How weird and apart am I really? Miles on the highway, nights in hotels, small crowds. I’m not truly a hermit. Yet this time I felt every mile separating me from my homestead like a rope tugging me back. I found it hard to think among all the noise. It’s hard to be sorrowful in our corrupt and degraded world. It’s a maelstrom for a mourner; or at least one like my loner self. I could not roam the mountains and gain strength. Paperwork and social functions and places to be and things to approve and stuff to know… it was all a blur. So noisy. So aggressive. TVs everywhere. Seething sophistication layered over reasoned simplicity. Everything not political is fiscal; nobody sits and thinks. Does anyone read a book anymore? The more I see of modernity the more I wonder how anyone thrives in it? I suppose they don’t. A lot of limping damaged souls out there.
But the crisis has passed. I will slowly rebuild the peace I’d heretofore stacked high. I had it for use in times like these and I’m glad I had it. In one memorable conversation I called it “a truckload of chill”. It served me in good stead. Depleted yet eternal, peace is always there if you seek it. I may have to consult with the trees about the details. They’re a patient sort. They’ll understand and guide me right. In due time, I will once again be in synch with nature.
Everything sucked, but I’m going to be OK.
Last night I dreamed of ice fishing. It was the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in 13 days and among the very few since all this started (I keep count). I did not dream of loss. I caught a trout.
That’s a good sign!
Yesterday I saw a malfunctioning e-sign adjacent the highway. My first thought was “what would a squirrel do with that”? Another good sign.
The worst is over. Thank you all for your patience.
A.C.