Closure

A part of me is screaming “Go to bed, it doesn’t matter that its 930”, while another is whispering “Write, write, write.”  This was one of those weekends in which a chapter is closed right in front of you and you find yourself at the edge of opportunity.  One of those weekends when you are very much aware of where you are in the present and what you are going to do in the future.   I was able to stand back from myself and realize my role as wife and daughter, and at the same time see where we are going as a family. 

K’s grandma passed away on Tuesday, which began a week of grieving, preparing, and mostly not sleeping.  We knew that it was coming, but it was still difficult, as it should be.  So, as we started to say good-bye, I started to shift into my responsibility.  Caregiver, go-to-girl, shoulder to cry-on, whatever you want to call it, I wanted to be it.  I wanted to be like Robin on HIMYM and pull a phone charger and bottle of whiskey out of my purse at a funeral because someone needed it.  My relationship with her wasn’t like their relationship with her, so I am available. 

And, so it was a tiresome week and whirlwind weekend, I am tired and am writing sentence fragment after sentence fragment. 

Still, “write, write, write.” 

I would like to write that I am very proud of my husband. 

And that I am proud to be part of his family.

I’d also like to write that marriage does change it all.  You can’t describe it and most days it doesn’t feel different.  But then you have a week like we just had and it all makes sense.  As a girlfriend or a fiancée, its just not the same.  As a wife, its an intense mixture of responsibilities and commitment.  At the core of that mixture is this spiritual connection.  Yes, marriage makes it all different.  We may have the same surroundings, the same habits, the same hangouts and friends, but are wholly different in our souls. 

He sang and he spoke at the funeral.  A grandson saying good-bye to his grandmother, but a man standing before us.  He is different.  He is good.

I do not go to church often.  My faith has morphed throughout the year, from an active church going teenager to a burned out young adult.  I have gone from believing only one thing, to questioning everything, and am now centered in the belief that you have to live in kindness and truth to yourself.   And I also believe that death is a beautiful thing.  I won’t talk about my job often, but I will say that I believe that I am called to the bedside of the dying.  To hold their hand and given them permission to go, to explain to family what will happen next, and to stand behind that family onto the next phase in their lives.  As K says: there will come a time when you think you’re at the end and that is only the beginning.  So, as I watched tears flow this weekend and tried to wipe them with crumpled tissues, I knew that we were only getting started.  We mourn, we cry, but we come together and we move forward. 

A funeral marks the beginning.  A chance to let go of resentment and anger, and find closure.  While we miss the individual who has died, we have an opportunity to reflect on our own life and chose what we want from it.  I want my obituary to be half about my family and half about what I did with my life.  Not what I did during my day job, but that I liked to write late at night, roll my jeans up and walk on river rocks, and watch embers dance over moonlit fireplaces.  Death can be beautiful if we let it be.  If we give ourselves a chance to say good-bye, if we remember the gifts that that person gave to this world, and if we open our hearts to those around us, Death can be a blessing.

So the blessings that I received this weekend are many.  I realized the strength that we have in our relationship as newlyweds.  I felt the connection that I have with my husband.  I transitioned from daughter-in-law to daughter.  I reflected on the inner peace and spirituality that I have long worked on.  I swelled with pride as I witnessed the love and community around me. I was able to use my gifts to help others.  And I found closure in many good-byes. 

It is not a sad time.  It is a glorious time.  We have life in front of us, and it is Life that I am going to live.