Posted by: carolyn / through a widow's eyes | November 15, 2012

perhaps

Why oh why did i think this was a good idea for today: going through & cleaning out the drawer that for 3+ years has held all the sympathy cards. Yes, yes, I was looking for something in particular, that actually WAS in there (yay!), but I am constantly amazed at my own blindness to the idea that a simple dovetailed pine drawer can be as dangerous as a deep dark hole lined with sharpened sticks, and can tear me wide open just as surely. Time and again.

However, I did find this handwritten note, from dear old friends MLC&CC:
“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where love of our lost ones pours through and shines upon us to let us know they are happy. —inspired by an Eskimo legend”
Or, y’know, perhaps not.
But it’s a nice thought and at least made me smile for a second on this day. My friends’ notion to send a card is still sending out ripples of love and caring through the universe, three years later. I couldn’t absorb it at the time, but perhaps now I can. If I’ve learned nothing else from all this, I’ve learned not to ignore an impulse to offer a tiny slice of kindness when I can. That phone call you’ve been thinking of making: Make It.
Those cards matter, people. They really do.  Even if all you can do is sign your name.
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Responses

  1. I have been sorting through drawers lately. I have decided its time to sell the house my husband and I lived in together. Its too big for me and maybe it contains too many memories. Its curious what might be hiding in the drawers that on the outside look so innocent and non-threatening.

    I still find things that my husband held, I find notes that a friend wrote, like you have. What I am finding is I can receive those hand written notes now…or the feelings that were conveyed to me. In a way they become momentos, for me of THAT TIME that was so dark. But look I survived!

    I like that you wrote to “not ignore an impulse…” If there is one thing I learned from my husband’s illness and ultimately his death, is that we squandered time. So much time squandered thinking there would be endless minutes, hours, days and even years.

    I just don’t do that anymore. If I find myself thinking of a person, I call or text them. I even use the “old fashioned” snail mail at times because I find it is more personal than an email to drop a note to someone to let them know I’m thinking of them.

    You’re so right, those cards matter!

    Thanks for your post!

    Like

  2. Love this. And yes, perhaps. But in any case there is love shining on you, through you, and in you…that light is certain and beautiful. xo

    Like


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