The Heavy Coat

No matter where I go, the heavy coat accompanies me. Even to the far away shores of St. Thomas Island! What a beautiful, dream come true type of trip! Time spent in the lush and plush portion of the Virgin Islands, the crisp, clear, green and turquoise waters twinkled and sparkled, as if calling me to simply stare for days. I did not read a page. Instead, I was in a trance. A good state of being. Time spent with my daughter and my sister, a respite, a REAL vacation as we kept saying. It had been so very long since a real vacation ensued. Sure, lots of travel for all of us. But travel and vacation don't necessarily go hand in hand. Travel can mean many things. Oh, don't get me wrong. I would never take back any of the last year or two, or three, or four. Every moment has provided a memory, a time to grieve, a time to heal, a time to laugh and a time to cry.

To the natural observer, no doubt, the three of us had not a care in the world. And in some ways, we didn't! We were able to shed some of our realities, escape the eyes that are upon us, and the demands of life. Yes, even retired people have demands. They are just different, that is all. But there we were, in our glory of surrounding beauty. Amazed and enthralled with the ambiance and the view. The view from our eyes, the indescribable beauty of an island paradise that I would never have believed would be mine to capture, let alone, spend in treasured time with my daughter and my sister.

We each carried our own burdens, along with our literal baggage. Suitcases filled with summer items, a treat, and a novelty to be shedding the heavy winter clothes for the bathing suit, white, flowing skirts, short sleeves and flip flops or sandals. It was pure joy and therapeutic! But the heavy coat always travels, the heavy coat of grief, that is. It may look like it is shed, temporarily, but it is there. Maybe no one can see it. Maybe we don't really acknowledge it, but it is worn. And it never truly disappears. Grief. It never leaves me, my sister, or my daughter. But in spite of it, we managed to find a place, a center of our soul, a time to just BE, and what better place than paradise. And surely, we found our loved ones in various places, in the waters, in the clouds, in the music, Michael's favorite reggae song, and oh, yes, in the incredible rainbow. There it was, that rainbow, that has seemed to follow us wherever we go on our journeys since Allison left us. Well, maybe the rainbow was always with us, maybe she has taught us to see and appreciate more clearly, more dearly.

The heavy coat represents much. We try not to dwell on just how heavy it really is, rather, we try to live, for ourselves, each other, for them, our beloveds. We try not to let it define us for if we do, it will sag our shoulders, it will smother us, and it will suffocate the life out of us, so much so, we won't capture, and enjoy, the beauty. We learn to maneuver and thrive under its weight. We know it is ours to hold onto, yet, to release at the same time. No one can see it, but we know it is there.

For those days in paradise, we carried our heavy coat differently. But, it was still there. It matched, and reflected, the hole and sadness in our hearts. No one would recognize it in the image of three women enjoying every part of paradise. No one would feel it like we do, each in our own way, each facing our own loss, yet sharing a common bond of the lessons learned. We wear the pain like a heavy coat, and we are learning how to do just that. It does not go away. I wonder if it ever will. But in the meantime, we are learning how to adjust the heaviness, the burden, the weight, not just on an island of paradise, but in the beauty of each day.