During our recent trip to Scotland, I was able to capture a lot of amazing reflections in the lakes and ponds we visited as part of a tour we took. Those images seemed to be fitting for all the reflecting I find myself doing these days. Reflections on loss, on change, on little miracles that have happened over the past several months, on what it all means….
It’s been exactly one year now since Shane left us. In many ways it feels like it’s been the longest year of my life…in others, the time has passed remarkably fast. I find it almost unbelievable that a year has passed since I turned off that light, and a mere twenty minutes later I turned it back on to find that he’d slipped away on me. That memory feels like it was yesterday, and often on the cusp of sleep, it sneaks back into my thoughts, haunting my dreams. That will forever remain the worst moment of my life. That it was a year ago…that seems impossible…
I’ve also been doing a lot of reflecting on the choices I’ve made to get me through the last year of grieving. Coming out to Salt Spring Island still feels like it was the right choice for me. Taking time away from my routine and life at home feels like it too was right. This strange period of down time has allowed me to sit back and take in so many things that I likely would have missed in my normal, everyday business. That opportunity to be aware of what’s happening around me has brought me my whales, my eagles, my hummingbirds, my roses in winter…all those gifts that nature has offered to keep me looking forward and upward. I hope that my return to my ‘real’ world will allow time and space to continue that connection in my own beautiful corner. I hope that all of this will allow me to continue to feel ‘okay’ when I get back to my own home and world.
I’ve been reflecting on who I am now. So many years of my identity were tied up in being Shane’s Mom. The void has left me searching for who Lynda is now, and I don’t think I yet have that answer, but know that whoever she is, a big part of that person is because of having been Shane’s Mom. I carry his lessons and gifts with me daily. I always will, and continue to give him credit for who I am.
Gradually, over the last several months, I’ve once again been able to see traces of Lynda when I look in the mirror. For so long the person looking back had such sadness and loss in her expression, and such sorrow in her eyes, she was often unrecognizable to me. Now, sometimes, the face looking back shows small traces of joy and happiness. I hope those glimpses continue to expand into what might one day become the ordinary again, rather than the exception. But will that be the norm? I don’t’ know, I don’t know what normal is anymore…normal keeps changing on me. ..maybe that’s the problem. I look back over the past twelve months, and try to figure out if I feel less ‘broken’…because in the days following Shane’s death, I can only say that I felt like I had shattered into a million tiny pieces. I don’t know if I still feel that broken…I don’t think I do…I think I’ve started to put those pieces of myself back together, but will I ever feel ‘whole’ again….I don’t honestly believe that I will…. Shane made me whole, and if he’s not here, how can I be? I am simply a different, glued together version of the me that was complete because of him.
But I am ok…that’s far from perfect, but the best I can claim these days…and that’s okay. None of this has been accomplished alone. Even though I ‘ran away from home’…home followed right behind me in the calls, emails and letters that have continued to lift me when the days have been darkest.
. I’ve come to realize that for whatever unfortunate events have darkened my days, I’m still a very, very lucky woman in the family I have and the circle that embraces me. I am here…..and Shane? Well, he’s right here beside me, blessing my days, bring magic to my experiences, and supporting me to keep moving forward through the darkness of his loss towards the light on the other side.
Till next time,
Lynda
