It's THAT Time Again

It's THAT time again, it's always THAT time. There is no break from it, this thing called time. And I don't need a calendar to tell me it's THAT time again, her birthday, and dreams have been circulating of what she would be like at age 27. I'll never know, and it's TIME to spend this sixth birthday without her. I never saw her 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, and now, 27th birthdays. Allison is forever 21 in my mind, at least tangibly. And why oh why we humans must put things in the "physical" form, I'm not sure, but we do, I DO, and it takes all the work and energy and emotional stamina I have to focus on the spiritual, especially at THIS time, her birthday. But I do, and I will, because it is knowing her spiritually now that brings me the closeness of the heart, the connection, and the comfort. I shall never hear her voice, touch her hand, kiss her cheek, rub her back, nor will she do the same for me. It is THAT time again, and the middle of the night tears tell me so.

It's always THAT time, indeed. No, not just her birthday, but everything under heaven. THAT time can hold so much meaning, and the heart just knows. It's ALWAYS THAT TIME! Seasons change, and there it is, the relentless grief that pours when the trees bud, the snow falls, the children play outside. Holidays occur, and there is not a need for a plate to be set for her, an Easter basket sits empty, and Christmas gifts are purchased for those less fortunate, in her name. Mother's Day, and her sister does everything she can to make the day special, knowing there is now one child, and not two, physically present. Father's Day and what was special and meaningful now is tiptoed around, yet celebrated. An ordinary day that holds no real significance at all, yet holds the world in its hands, a day to be honored like any other, living, loving, laughing, but through it all, pain that is relentless and deep and eternal. Family news to be shared, and she is not here to call, yet, she is within reach, thus, making the pain more bearable, yet unbearable. It is THAT time again, with every passing day, it is always THAT time again. It's THAT time again, to select this year's recipient of the Allison Haake Memorial Scholarships, reminding us of the beautiful legacy, but also, that she is gone. It's THAT time when I hear a song that she sang relentlessly, or when I hear a new one I want to share with her. It's THAT time again, THAT time when I would curl up in a ball and let the world pass me by if I could. If only I could. But I cannot, for in doing so, I would miss the moments, the treasured minutes with my living family, and the beauty of the life around me. Even in the devastation, I cannot, I will not allow it, it's THAT time again, and I must embrace what I can.

TIME holds so much meaning. Time passes, stands still, regresses, and through it all, I must cling to the fact that I am here, and she is not. It's TIMES such as these, the birthday celebrations, the milestones, the anniversaries, the special, and not-so-special remembrances of life that bring me to my knees. I do my best to honor all of TIME and all those who fill my life. I fall short. I know I do, but I keep trying. That's the best I can do. I try with everything I am given, and can resurrect, to live, breathe, honor and embrace. I would not have ever wanted to know she would leave me so soon. I would not have ever even believed this would be my life, and the life of so many I love and have come to know. But it is, and I must do what I can to make meaning of the TIME I have right now. Easy? Not at all. But I have come to know that "easy" is no longer in my vocabulary. "Easy" was before, I just didn't know it.

It's THAT time again, a time to live, love, laugh when I can, wipe the tears when I must. It's THAT time again, when something so deep tells me what is happening before I wake up, before I turn the calendar, before I look at a clock. TIME to keep going, know her spirit, feel her presence, and make life in a new way. TIME to show my love for her and all those around me, it's THAT time again. It's always that TIME.

Sacred Silence

I must say I was most likely one of those people who often felt the need to fill the silence. Fill it with words, activity, noise, whatever was needed. Silence used to seem rather awkward. When I was teaching, I learned that we must give "think time" to students when asking a question. At least three seconds, was the rule! Give a student "think time", what a concept!! Sometimes, when I would call on a student, those three seconds would seem to drag on and on, especially when others who knew the answer were waving hands and trying to be called upon to give the appropriate response. Still, I tried to teach them to honor the silence and let the called upon student THINK!

I have come to know, honor, and embrace the silence. I no longer feel the need to fill it like I once did. I understand that it is necessary in life, through the joys, the sadness, the living, the healing, the dying. There is a time to speak, and there is a time to remain silent, and I am learning a lot about both.

Coming from a person who enjoys talking, listening, socializing, teaching, well, silence can be daunting. Could be, at least, until Allison died. Then silence became the shadow, the constant companion, the pain, the brokenness that no words, activity, social activity, or sound could fix or change. Silence. I came to know it all too well. It came in the form of friends and family NOT knowing what to say and me assuring them that saying nothing at all was just fine. There were no words, anyway, that could be said. Nothing could fill the empty chamber, and if truth be known, still cannot. Yes, I do find myself in social situations, now, and even early on, but mostly ones orchestrated by myself, or ones I can tip toe in and out of easily, in case...in case the emotion becomes too strong. In case I break down. In case there is a trigger that brings me to my knees, or a flashback, or a memory. God knows how painful it is to do some of the things we/I have done, to fill the silence, when it would be so much "easier" to just stay in the hollowness of no sounds.

Even early on, there was nothing that could fill the gaps. I rode in the car for months without music, without noticing the sounds around me, the cars, the noises, the bus stopping outside my house. I knew the phone was ringing but I couldn't really hear it. I heard the conversations but I couldn't differentiate the words, sounds, meaning, vocabulary. It all sounded the same. I didn't want to go near it. I didn't want to hear anything, I simply didn't know how to exist. Over time, however, I could turn the music on, and participate in conversations, go to a movie, attend a gathering, or turn on the television.

I now find that what I term sacred silence is part of my day. I must shut off the sounds. I know there are moments, or hours, when time is best served in silence. The silence is my familiar companion, now, and for whatever life hands me, the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, I must learn to embrace it in silence.

Silence is golden, so I have heard. I understand that, now. I no longer feel the need to fill it. I honor it, I embrace it, I choose it over noise any time! It's in the silence that I can learn more about who I am, pray to the divine one and let go of all that burdens me, reflect, write, capture, and dream. The silence has taught me so much. It is sacred and pure. It is often my first choice. It was brought about by tragedy, I have no need to fill it up. I can accept it and just BE. In it, I am closer to God, to Allison, and hopefully, closer to healing the broken heart that beats within. Silence has taught me to live life, to make choices, to follow the spirit within, and to honor myself. The silence of this day, and these times, is sacred. I will honor it at all costs, and not try to change it. I will treasure it as I do any gift I am given, and I will be thankful for it.