Somehow you left three pages, yellow with blue writing. It was the only thing that you intentionally left as your legacy. Short and concise, a sparse but complete statement of your existence. It saddened you, not being able to control your future, but it did not blind you. It was hard for you to write those pages, there was a final admission in the act, a surrender that you had worked hard to push off as long as you could. The reality of what that letter would represent, it would represent, stand in place of your existence.
Investment of time, thousands of hours, time spent and never expected to return. The debt of your future is left for us to pay. That future is lost to you, never realized, never experienced. Now the remains of your body reside in a box.
I feel lost, but maybe I was always lost. We seemed to be found when we were with each other. Our perfection was knowing we were perfect for each other, all faults included. The ease with which we accepted and enjoyed one another. At first, I thought I was losing you, and I was blind to the future, it was abstract. Then, when I lost you, I could only focus on all that I jealously held precious, our coupling, and our clan. After a while, I started to appreciate the part of me that you helped make, realizing that, in a way, you were still in that part of me, transferred through osmosis. Further through that year, I started to realize that you were in part of everyone. The sweet gentleness and compassion that I saw so easily in you exists in the world.
There are a few new friends that I've made, they tend to be gentle and giving like you. I wonder if I will spend my life searching for you in others. Again, I'm so glad I found you so early, and that we had decades together. Things weren't always easy, but I always felt accepted by you.
The end was tough, knowing you were going, not knowing how to say goodbye. I've been saying goodbye every day since you left. Over time, I've found different ways of understanding your passing. At first, I was horrified by everything that reminded me of you, thinking "why did she leave this?" or "what am I going to do with this?". That changed into more of a feeling like everything was a tribute or memorial of you that should not be disturbed. As each thing that you once used needed to be replaced, toothpaste, hair brush, groceries you had bought... I felt you disappearing. Around the nine month mark, I started to feel more free when I'd get rid of something of yours, like a weight was being lifted. It didn't feel like these were your things any more. The clothes passed on seemed to belong to their new owners. It wasn't you being erased, it was impermanence being recognized, and life moving on.
It's so hard to know my mind, it is a mystery to me in so many ways. You had protected and bolstered me in enumerable ways, I never truly had to face myself. I knew the aspects of myself I wanted to know, and avoided the other aspects. That was a luxury that worked for a while, and then became a bit twisted up when you became stricken down. I suspended myself in some ways, not examining important things, indulging myself in distractions, playing the part of the devoted husband and father. My instinct was to help at all cost, and to help my family have the best life possible. I gave up years in the pursuit of fulfilling this role. I feel happy to have made every sacrifice, especially in the face of your sacrifice. And, now, I am still fulfilling a role, but I'm doing it in a more authentic way. We grew up together, learned to be adults together. We also learned how to fulfill our roles as adults relative to each other as mutual coaches and peers. I am still operating relative to you, anticipating what you would give me as council. This is diminishing over time, I'm starting to hear my own voice inside me.
I know what to do, I know how to do it, but I'm missing some piece that is required to make it happen. There is something that I can't find, that would
Investment of time, thousands of hours, time spent and never expected to return. The debt of your future is left for us to pay. That future is lost to you, never realized, never experienced. Now the remains of your body reside in a box.
I feel lost, but maybe I was always lost. We seemed to be found when we were with each other. Our perfection was knowing we were perfect for each other, all faults included. The ease with which we accepted and enjoyed one another. At first, I thought I was losing you, and I was blind to the future, it was abstract. Then, when I lost you, I could only focus on all that I jealously held precious, our coupling, and our clan. After a while, I started to appreciate the part of me that you helped make, realizing that, in a way, you were still in that part of me, transferred through osmosis. Further through that year, I started to realize that you were in part of everyone. The sweet gentleness and compassion that I saw so easily in you exists in the world.
There are a few new friends that I've made, they tend to be gentle and giving like you. I wonder if I will spend my life searching for you in others. Again, I'm so glad I found you so early, and that we had decades together. Things weren't always easy, but I always felt accepted by you.
The end was tough, knowing you were going, not knowing how to say goodbye. I've been saying goodbye every day since you left. Over time, I've found different ways of understanding your passing. At first, I was horrified by everything that reminded me of you, thinking "why did she leave this?" or "what am I going to do with this?". That changed into more of a feeling like everything was a tribute or memorial of you that should not be disturbed. As each thing that you once used needed to be replaced, toothpaste, hair brush, groceries you had bought... I felt you disappearing. Around the nine month mark, I started to feel more free when I'd get rid of something of yours, like a weight was being lifted. It didn't feel like these were your things any more. The clothes passed on seemed to belong to their new owners. It wasn't you being erased, it was impermanence being recognized, and life moving on.
It's so hard to know my mind, it is a mystery to me in so many ways. You had protected and bolstered me in enumerable ways, I never truly had to face myself. I knew the aspects of myself I wanted to know, and avoided the other aspects. That was a luxury that worked for a while, and then became a bit twisted up when you became stricken down. I suspended myself in some ways, not examining important things, indulging myself in distractions, playing the part of the devoted husband and father. My instinct was to help at all cost, and to help my family have the best life possible. I gave up years in the pursuit of fulfilling this role. I feel happy to have made every sacrifice, especially in the face of your sacrifice. And, now, I am still fulfilling a role, but I'm doing it in a more authentic way. We grew up together, learned to be adults together. We also learned how to fulfill our roles as adults relative to each other as mutual coaches and peers. I am still operating relative to you, anticipating what you would give me as council. This is diminishing over time, I'm starting to hear my own voice inside me.
I know what to do, I know how to do it, but I'm missing some piece that is required to make it happen. There is something that I can't find, that would
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