Sounds

I wonder if Allison had not left this world so soon, leaving me to redefine my own existence and purpose, leaving me to wonder what is to be made of all of this, leaving me to find the blessings in the depths of pain...I wonder if I would have slowed down enough to hear the sounds of life. Sometimes I cannot help but wonder how my life would have been had she not been struck with cancer and gone in the blink of an eye, or so it seemed. I remember thinking that we would be blessed to have her for five more years, maybe three, then it got to weeks, then days, then minutes. I feel it all so intently as the minutes ticked by and I knew in one last breath my life would change forever. But I did not know how much and where it would lead. I didn't know that a slow pace would be, or could be, so beautiful. That when you listen you hear things as though they are the first time. The background noises of daily living sound like trumpets to me, blasting and blaring that I am alive in this moment, that there is no rushing, that I have the gift of this day to do and be exactly what moves me, that there is some beauty in the neighbor's dog yelping at 6:00 a.m., that the sounds of another neighbor's lawn trimmer remind me that the beauty of spring is to be savored, and the children playing on the swingset behind our house sings a different song, one of hope and life and innocence. The buses pull in and pick up the children and the laughter is contagious. Even the sigh of my own dog as he takes his morning nap in a sunny spot of the house, is a treasure, for it reminds me that his unconditional love has been one of my greatest gifts and pleasures in days of uncertainty and loss...my constant companion hobbles to my side wherever I am, resting his head on my foot at the computer, or sitting by me while I stand and make a salad, jiggling his collar and sending out happy messages.

Then there is the quiet, and even that is a refreshing sound, for in it, I can hear the birds that still chirp this late in the morning, and the sound of the chimes, making their own sweet music, or the CD I have playing, Eva Cassidy's melodious, yet silenced voice, due to her own battle with cancer. As I listen, now, her song, Time Is A Healer, resonates throughout the house, and in the silence of the surroundings, I hear, and cling to, the words. She truly must have been an old soul, like Allison, who knew much before her time, for her words ring so true to what so many of us face in this lifetime.

This day, with senses alive, I am thankful to capture the beauty around me. I know that for some, for many, there doesn't seem to be an end in sight to the pain, loss, sorrow, or grief. I also know that in the next minute, it can rush in and consume me again, that I will stare in disbelief at a photograph and have to say out loud, once again, to affirm, that Allison is gone, that I will not hear her voice again, and that is a very deep pain. I will feel melancholy and sad, fatigued and distraught, but I will keep going, get up, move along, inch forward, find my way, and maneuver through the sights and sounds that are all so new, all so fresh, all there for the enjoying. I will hear things I never thought possible as I set out with new senses, and even a rebirth, all in the name of hardship, change and life. Life is happening whether I am ready or not, and it keeps evolving, and I must hold on for the ride, being open for the sounds that will restore and refresh and give me hope, keeping it simple and savoring every minute. I will whisper, "thank you Allison, thank you God for opening my ears to the newness and wonderment of this day".