reason to live

In the hot early days -- and pretty hot later ones, too -- Rich was my reason to live.  Body, mind, spirit -- all contained in the other until the chordoma years emptied his, and drained mine.

After the burial, after the memorial service, after the first wave of financial and legal commitments, came the fall.  I needed a container for grief, as once I had one for love.

So I began pouring myself into morning and evening Kaddish, into healing meditation (for me, for Rich, for us), into a fixed place where everything could spill out.  In these times there are, mostly, tears at the beginning and joy at the end; sometimes the reverse.  And I can be assaulted at any time by his absence.

But lately I have been awaking hungry.  For love, again.  To love someone, again.  And rejoice that nothing has changed.

Rich, once, was my reason to live.

He still is.

A love-filled new year to all -- and many thanks,

Candace