The following entries (from beginning runner to half marathon finisher) represents a continuing journey of tremendous grief and sorrow, and of transformation - largely through the therapeutic power of running. The sorrow that has broken my heart open wide has in time allowed me to experience the beauty of being in the present moment. And of course, without the support of family and friends to guide me, I would not have made it this far.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
A DARK PASSAGE
Few sights compare to the beauty of the river as
it takes on the first rays of sunlight. I retreated to
the river to be with my daughter and my sister on
March 9, the first anniversary of Kristy's death.
For months now I have been writing an entry every day into this diary. It has never been a chore as I felt I had to pour out my heart or it would burst at some point. There's something almost alive about putting your thoughts where anyone can read them. And the whole process has been one of movement as I go from thought to thought, trying to make some sense out of Kristy's death.
When I achieved the goal I set for my recent run, things began to change for me. I no longer had something to focus on. Having a structured training schedule to achieve this run took all thought out of a portion of each day. This is the part of each day I treasured most, as it allowed me to escape thoughts of death and loss.
I am still trying to find my way back into focus. I feel as if I am floundering in my own dark passage and can't seem to find a way out. I used to feel as if I had a separate life, one that was my own. But it contained so many different things - things that were really not just mine. Everything has changed now and I feel as if I do not know who I am anymore.
I would like to write about the first anniversary of Kristy's death at some point. It still has to wait. I know I am not ready, because for now the words are not coming to me. I can't seem to find a way to express them. Hopefully, this is a start.