The Sweet Whisper of Her Soul

Our hearts will always be connected, her and mine. I know this because sometimes mine beats so fast, it feels like it is beating for two...and it is. It's like that extra beat that occurs when we know our children need us, or are troubled, or are ill. It's also like the extra beat it takes when we have the love and pride that only a parent can understand, as we watch them spread their wings, graduate from college, find joy in their chosen profession, observe them as they find their way to happiness, maybe hold their own child someday or find someone to share their life with...whatever our child feels, we feel, only I believe, we feel it to an intensity that cannot be described, only felt.

My own heart beats so fast in these beautiful autumn days, each day more beautiful than the other in this month, October. It beats fast as I attempt to maneuver and find my way through the memories, the "flashbacks", the occurences, the diagnosis, the treatments. I have learned how to put each painful part in a compartment and visit it at an appropriate time, to hold on to it for a bit of time, but to let go and find some peace. I thank God for that peace that He has promised, that peace that passes all understanding. I will never understand. I am trying not to understand. It is a waste of time, because there will be no revelation, no explanation, no ah-ha moment. She is gone and just this morning I had to say it again, out loud, through the tears and the pain, she is not coming back. She is not coming home. She IS home.

A gift that has come, in time, and in the brokenness, is the whisper of her soul to mine. It is true that I have felt hollow and empty, sometimes fake and certainly phony, since she left. I have felt numb as I attempt to go through some of life's motions. Other times, not. Other times I am just so damn grateful for the moment that I don't want it to end. I don't want my days with Jennifer to turn to night, I don't want to take my sister to the airport, I don't want a quiet evening of drinking wine on the deck with Joe to end. But they do, and when the special moments bring me back to my "reality", it is the sweet whisper of her soul that moves me. She is there, always and in all ways. My greatest gift has become my new reality, she is gone, but she is part of me. Her soul whispers to mine and we are connected.

It's hard to describe, really. How can something so beautiful be so painful? I want her here, don't I? I want her in the photograph I saw the other day of some friends from the class of 2003 posted on Facebook. I still look for her there! She should be, she should not have died so young. I want her here as we plan for a cousin Christmas, she should hear of the plans and be there in the new memories we will make. I will look for her. And she won't be there. Yet, she will. Her sweet whisper to my soul will be even more magnified than her physical presence. She sends me message, gives me ideas, provides the courage, hope, love, and energy it takes to take each step in this thing called life.

As we head into the last weeks she was home with us we find even little observances like Halloween and evening walks with the dog can be painful. Everywhere I turn there is a reminder, intensified at this time of year, because this season was her last. How appropriate that God would keep her here through the beauty of a season, in preparation of a holiday, only to take her in His time, the dead of winter for us, but to Him, a place of no seasons, a place where she is free from pain and treatment and a place where she can live larger than life itself. A place where she is blessed and where the sweet whisper of her soul will never die. A place where she can be everything to every body, all at once, and all consuming. A place where the whispers never stop.