(Written 3.18.17)
I’m not going to write about you tonight, Steve. This anniversary is different. If I could simply pick up the photo of you that sits in a copper frame on my bedside table and conjure up only the warmest, dog-eared memories, I would.
But there’s just too much static clouding the air between you and me. I can’t seem to get to you without having to walk across a minefield of memories: disturbing, violent details of your journey down the mountain, telling Ellie of your death, grief so strong it ripped the air from my lungs. So much darkness.
No, tonight–on what would have been our 39th anniversary–I can’t… I just can’t traverse all of that scorched earth to spend a few moments with you.
So please forgive me, but tonight I can’t write about you.
What a strange thing it is to be a part of a “dyad”.
The concept is that you become a part of a dual energy system, and you are not complete without the “other”. It’s actually a physical thing and not an abstract concept.
My wonderful wife and I just celebrated our 37th, I don’t feel complete without her, just knowing that she is, even when she is not physically here, brings me peace,
I am a part of a strong dyad, and understand what it is to be “without”.
I am not really religious, but feel I should say, God bless you, and may she bring you peace.
Because this is another union in which I’ve felt complete.
Jim
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Thanks so much, Jim, for sharing your insights. Yes, thankfully, a love relationship with God provides a similar sense of intimacy–and definitely a more lasting one.
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