The six weeks from the time she was rediagnosed to the time she left us flew by. The 65 hours from the time they told her there was nothing more they could do to the time she let go felt like an eternity. None of it seems to add up.
We have all gone back to work, to school, to life. While time marches on, our hearts still grieve. We have moments of remembering that bring a smile to our faces. We have moments of sadness when we remember that she's gone. We see evidence that she's watching over us, but continue to wish that she were still here with us, healthy.
Today Jay came down to visit with Tony. I worked today so they got to spend the day Father and son. They didn't do anything special, just hung out without any plans. Reminiscing and making memories. That's the beauty of life. Memories are made in the living. And it's through those memories made that our legacy continues.
Jay seems to be doing well. He's found a new respect for Eleanor by walking a few miles in her shoes as keeper of the house. He's looking forward to pretty weather so he can get outside. I think he likes garden work much better than house work. He says he's cooking and eating well. His clothes were clean, and I didn't see any bones sticking out, so I'll take him for his word.
The world is a different place without Eleanor McCann. She's been visiting me in my dreams the last three nights. I'm not sure what she's trying to tell me yet, but I'll figure it out eventually. It's always good to see her. My hope is that she's resting and enjoying her guardian angel duties.
One month. Time may march on, but we will always remember and smile.
Thank you Machelle ... the remembering the good and forgetting the bad ... part of Eleanor's journey still gladdens and stings at the same time. I lost a favorite uncle on March 3rd. He taught science at Tazewell High School for many years ... Eleanor and I both were in his class. The pain of grief is the same for a dear friend as it is a relative ... it's just doubled in the past two weeks for me. Death reminds us to live ... not just to exist and put one foot in front of another ... but to thrive and feel joy in the beauty around us every day. I have thought about Jay and the boys so much in the last month ... wondered how they were managing emotionally. I don't do well with loss ... I cry, and sob, and have a big pity party. I wonder if others do that, or if they are stoic and can marshall on into the future with part of themselves missing. I still think of all of you and thank you so much for your faithful journal ... somehow it made me feel part of the journey. Love and warm regards, Millie Grindstaff
ReplyDelete