Lizards in the Leaves

Rustlings in the green....imagination, art, whimsy

Mar 24, 2008

Two Years Since....

This second anniversary of Patrick's death has been far more difficult than I expected, for both Paul and me.
Perhaps because of my mother's recent death, perhaps because that first anniversary was almost looked forward to....I think we have this notion of a Mourning Year that gives us a sense that something has been completed, that things will get better after that year, that healing can truly begin.

and they do. and it does.
But....

the second anniversary has come around and brought with it intense memories, feelings, sensations of that terrible, awful weekend and the stunning days following.

I've been unable to write much about Patrick, and I've been unable to think complete thoughts about him. It's just images, phrases, bits and pieces of feeling that are weaving in and out of the days and nights lately. And I don't seem to have the....will or energy... to direct them into anything coherent.

Paul wrote this year. Better than I've been able to write.

"Monday, March 17, 2008

For Patty, on a Special Day

Hello Patty. Today I miss you worse than ever, but at the same time I feel your presence, your energy, even more than usual. Still living between your nightmares, even creating a few new ones on my own unfortunately. (It’s hard for the old man to deal with the energy sometimes, but so far the collateral damages have not been completely devastating mostly because of the kindness of those involved.)

Anyway it occurs to me that there is more beauty, more vitality in one of your nightmares - and I have shared some of them - than in all of the so-called happy dreams I’ve had my entire life. Another thought from outside: when I’m running around town and get into a kind of bubble, imperviously floating from one street to the next, as if the traffic stops for me or somehow lets me sift through, no one even aware of my presence, then I’m simply being gone and continuing on with that feeling the rest of a day, I think of how you floated through your time here so quickly, in some ways with everyone being so unaware of your real consciousness even if you did affect everyone so deeply with your creative energy, your smile, your surface happiness, your zest for life. And it really makes me happy and sad at the same time, tears of joy and sadness for having known you and still being so connected with you despite the gap that grew between us the last couple years before you passed over.

I know that sometimes you thought about death, as a release from the torture you were going through, even as you struggled for life, but now as you move into the light, I want to thank you for all the energy and creativity you’ve released in me - what a fantastic gift. I am still working on how best to use it, constructively and in a centered way (it’s tough but nothing I’d rather be learning). I don’t know if you ever could have imagined while you were on this side what effect you have had on me; but now that you are getting the word I hope it works for you too Patty. Hope it helps you into the light.

You know we’ll never forget you, never stop loving you, and whenever I play it’s for you.

PapaPatty
Saint Patty’s Day 2008



Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.
Sarah Ban Breathnach

3 Comments:

At 3/26/08, 1:05 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

What a wonderful letter Paul wrote, Suzanne. You're in my thoughts and in my heart.

Carol

 
At 3/31/08, 3:05 AM, Blogger Barbara H. said...

Big warm hugs to you and your husband. I have no words, only sadness.

 
At 4/3/08, 7:48 PM, Blogger Claudia said...

Oh Zann, my heart aches for you both. It's funny, but I always think that too, about the one year anniversary being some kind of a threshold that we pass over, but that hasn't been the case with my mom, dad or my brother. Sometimes the losses feel even greater, and I feel like I'm standing on the brink of this great void that was my family, and some days I can smile about the memories. And I guess that's as good as it gets. But my thoughts are with you always.

 

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