Memories and the Man

Life can be very complicated. This part is very simple. Life isn't the same without your partner-for-life! Building a life together is an amazing adventure. Starting careers, having and nurturing children, creating a home and being part of a community are real gifts to share. When you operate as a couple, your experiences become more our experiences than my experiences. And my memories are all our memories. Any moment in time before 2010 is a shared memory. And those after August 21, 2010 are simply my memories.

I attended another funeral for a friend this week. Kathy was only 56 when she passed through this life to her reward. It made me sad for her family because she was such a vibrant part of their lives. I could see it on their faces and felt it in the touching eulogy that her son Jimmy gave at the Mass. She was very special. Kathy's death made me think even more about how life changes without the love-of-your-life.

Many people never find that true love. I wondered whether it would be better that way -- so you don't feel the deep loss. But over these six years, I have learned that the depth of your love is like the bedrock foundation under your house -- it stabilizes and stays strong, no matter what goes on around it. It touches the core of your being and stays there. I don't really have to wonder what Pete would have said about something -- I just know it. I know the things he would have just shaken his head at, and the times he would have laughed out loud. My judgment is galvanized or softened by his outlook. I can hear his summation -- It is what it is.

When I look back, my life was very rich. We had everything we needed. A huge extended family, four beautiful children, a vibrant faith community, meaningful work, and a shared faith. We tried to live sensibly and keep our opinions to ourselves, rather than causing offense, but when things were just plain wrong, we spoke up as one. Those situations tested our character and forged the bond of trust. Applying our faith to our actions made us stronger.

Pete passed away on my daughter's 24th birthday (in the hospital in which she was born.) I tried to preserve that date as her birthday, but August 21, 2010 changed so many of our lives that we always stop to remember him. As we remember, we share the memories of a loving husband and father. There are so many good times to recollect that we can pass over the painful memories of illness and suffering. And we feel blessed again.

Over these six years, I have become much more comfortable talking about Pete. It actually amazes me when I realize that some of my friends and colleagues never knew him. I am the person I am because of the influence he had on me. So I share his memory whenever I can. After Kathy's wake, two of my friends and I went around the cemetery and visited the grave sites of all our friends. Oh, my! How the list has grown! There are so many wonderful people who have gone before us.

 I have a very reassuring vision of the entrance to heaven that I would like to share with you. Among the clouds outside the pearly gates, there is a crowd gathering -- our cheering squad -- all our loved ones gathered together cheering us on. They are watching and praying for us, waiting patiently for us to join them. When I look at the crowd growing, I see such beautiful people -- parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, friends, colleagues. And of course, I hear "our song," and I think to myself, What a wonderful world!

Blessings,
Barb