Everywhere I Go

Everywhere I go, everything I see and touch, smell and hear, even when I don't want to, there it is, the reminder, the remembrances, the pain, and even the joy, the thanks be to God for doing what His will desired, rather than ours. We thought we knew what we wanted, but He knew better. We thought we knew what was best, but He knew what the future would bring, so He spared them, and in doing so, all of us in the process. I am not just talking of Allison, yet, here it is, the month when the world stood still as if no movement took place outside that hospital room, and it blends with the same month, different year, where the same emotion raged, knowing that with each falling, beautiful leaf, we would be brought closer and closer to our knees. That is one of the many blessings that can be found in profound devastation, pain and loss. We find God, and He is never more present than when we face a crisis.

Dear friends are facing a crisis of their own. It's not their first and it won't be their last. It never is, that's the meaning of life. October makes me always think of her in particular because of it being her only sister's birthday month, and in the few years since her sister lost her life to breast cancer, the turning of the season and page of the calendar always make me wonder...as I often do about my own surviving daughter, what would it be like to lose your only sibling and become the one to live on as the only living child, with no one to really share the memories and family history the way only siblings can...what it would be like to grow older and find yourself alone to tend to parents and family responsibilities? What would it be like to look around and see the families together, sisters dancing at weddings, attending celebrations, and there you are, searching for yourself in the eyes of the crowd? I hope to never know. But I might. In the blink of an eye, I might, just as my friend does, just as my daughter does, and now my friend, who in the blink of another eye, has all her closest family, each one of them, in separate rooms of a hospital after a very traumatic car accident this weekend. She has in an instant become the caregiver, the errand runner, the interpreter, the note taker, the one who will assist and nurture and tend to every need. She has wonderous support from her own husband and children, but no sibling to make decisions with, to listen, and to empathize. Oh sure, we all know that even when there are siblings here, sometimes they don't help in the way one would hope. I have heard those stories and am grateful I never had to cope with that in any sense. We have all done what we were able at every juncture, and are at peace with what was done. And where would I have been had I not had them to call and talk to and in my sister's case, just breathe, knowing she would feel my heart from afar?!

These are days when life is not fair, loved ones in a hospital, consuming grief of October, a month of tears, as a friend of mine has termed it. A month that has the most beauty and celebration, a 32nd wedding anniversary of ours coming up, the day the good Lord took my mother to be by His side, as we were contemplating having dinner for our 17th anniversary. Fifteen years ago and the pangs and feelings still exist, yes, softer perhaps, less intense, but still, the tears can come without me knowing what day it is, only to realize, oh yes, this is the day she entered the hospital, remained in a coma, and fought to live. This is the day, as it relates to my daughter, that we packed our bags for Florida, as we are doing today, only to return to pack up again, this time for a lifetime of change. This is the day my friend will begin to take it all in, find her way, perhaps fall to her own knees and thank God that her family is still here, and ask His mercy and grace upon their healing.

This is the day, and it is all we have, this we know.