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.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Today I was at our lake, Kristy. My new friend Cindy and I were walking with Jack and talking about you. I told her stories about our trips to the lake. How you ran while I rode the bike. How you pushed me up the hill when I finally said I had to get off the bike to walk. I told her stories about you and Clas, your boyfriend. How when he was not feeling very strong you would take him on short walks to the lake and take me along for good measure. Of course Jack came along as well.
I was smiling when I got home and realized Cindy has never met you. All she knows about you lives in my memory. But through my memories you have come alive. You have become a real person to her. She asks questions about you and you come alive in all your glory. And this is the truth of it, even though I have never met Shakespeare, Lincoln, Picasso or even Amy Tan I feel as if I know them.
During these long walks I have also met Cindy's mother. I can feel her mother's love as Cindy talks about her. I too can see her through Cindy's eyes. Even though Cindy's mother is no longer alive. Cindy and I have both shared our loves with each other and in so doing have received comfort in the reliving. For you are alive in these moments. It is as if you have never left me. There is a gentle comfort in talking about you, my darling. There is so much to tell.
Yes. In these moments it is as if you have never left. And someone whom you have never met knows you and carries your memory with them.