Time Stood Still

January 9, 2007, 7:00 a.m., time stood still. Never did I look at a moment in time thinking that it would, and never would I have imagined the journey that was about to unfold. I thought the journey was over, but no, it had only just begun.

That moment, all time stood still as our daughter and sister, niece, granddaughter, cousin and friend stopped all breathing, our own breaths held in wonder, asking the questions, Is she gone?, Is she free from this pain?, Is it over?...slowly, we knew, heavenly peace was hers, Allison left us, at least physically. We would come to know that she would never leave us, spiritually. She was ours forever, but gone from our grasp, our world, our lives. She left us then, and thus, time stood still.

Sure, we moved through all the plans and motions of life, from planning a life celebration to honoring her birthdays, the "anniversaries" of sorts, never flambouyant, rather simple...after all, we didn't, and still do not, have a template to follow in living through any day, but especially THOSE days. Making no plans, we found our way by simply honoring what each other "felt" like doing, day by day, establishing no new traditions or ways to manuever occasions such as these, creating our own guidepost on the journey of loss. Through it all, time seemed to stand still.

In spite of this, we have found our way to a fifth year mark, and wonder how we got here. There are some moments so strong in our memories, yet others have faded, or don't seem to exist at all. We took trips, spent time with family and friends, gathered in small group settings, still finding large groups to be overwhelming and intimidating. The numbness set in long before Allison passed from us, and may subside at times, but still lingers. At times, it seems as if we are living someone else's life, watching from the outside, not yet realizing this is OUR life, OUR child is gone, never to come home again. We long to remember her voice, yet find it too painful to watch her on a video. We desire to be in the company of her friends, but can be brought to our knees, wondering...wondering who she would be now, where her beauty would have taken her, what she would do to fill her days with passion, would she have babies, who would she become? We have prayed for wisdom, strength, faith, blessings in a new day, perseverance, to heal through the tears. And in all this time, it is clear that we have not been alone. God has surely held us up, together, provided a path whether we can remember or not, brought light through the darkness, and shown us that this is not our home. Allison is home. I didn't need time to show me that. She showed me. God showed me.

Yet, time has seemed to stand still. A fog prevails. Sure, life has seemed normal. We have found our way, new routines, the 6:00 evening phone call stopped long ago, the sweet voice of "momma" will never be heard, she will not grab my hand as we walk through the streets or the mall, and she will not need a ride from the train or the airport. Those have been replaced for new images, new messages, new sweet nothings in my ear. She has been my pathfinder, my guide, surrounded by a host of angels, holding me up, GETTING me up, bringing new life to my soul, new purpose, new love. I have learned to release her, slowly, ever so slowly, knowing she will always come back to me, that she may need to take care of someone else for a time, but as she grew in my womb, there she is in my heart. I share her willingly, now. I don't hold too tight. I heed the messages. I listen. I feel. I ache and I cry, but I know, the peace that came in the sunburst of her hospital room five years ago, prevails, and is all of ours for the asking.

What does it matter if time seemed to stand still? What does it matter if I can remember certain things or not? What does it matter that the trips and vacations and family gatherings seem to blend into one? What does it matter if that moment in time defines me, her father, her sister? What does it matter? What is time anyway? Where she is, there is no time, no remembering, no constraints, no calendars, no worries and no designs on her time. She is free. And in being so, God has used her to teach us more about time. Time matters not at all. Five years, five days, five minutes, it's all relative and it's all the same. Allison knows no time, only peace and tranquility. She was created in love, and left in love. All she desired was to go home, in her mind, we knew what she meant. God had bigger plans. So, as her sister whispered in her ear, over and over again, "Allison, you ARE going home"...and she did. Allison is home and one day, when it is our time, there she'll be, to guide us, assist us, love us, and time will stand still.