In Limbo

Dearest Trick~
There is this state of limbo that consumes us when we lose someone. It is not like the limbo we do below a stick to funky Caribbean beats. It is more like being stuck in a permeant rut that lacks to move forward or backwards. It is going through daily motions with out a vision of what we want, where we should go, and endless groundhogs day that repeats itself over and over again.

The land of limbo has taught me to take life one day at time, hell one minute at a time. And in limbo there are moments of one second at a time. It is an empty land with big open spaces that once were filled with dreams, with you! In limbo one is waiting, and waiting, and waiting. But unlike the CTA trains this line never seems to come into the station. I stand here on the platform of life waiting for a train that somehow is not on the track. Learning to stand and wait knowing that transportation is nowhere in sight is beyond hard. But here I stand, here I wait, here I hold the ticket that was my life in breathless anticipation that one day, someday, somehow I will get picked up and taken out of this space we call limbo.

The weird thing about limbo is that we all have stood here at some point. Maybe for different reasons, but none the less~ at some time each human has been waiting for life to start, something to begin, something to move forward... and there is comfort in knowing that at some point my ride of life will come and I will move from this dreaded land of limbo. I keep looking down the tracks thinking I hear the whistle blowing in the distance, that I will have a life again, love again, breathe again... but it is a phantom sound. And so here I stand. Each day a simple repeat of the day before, dreaming of you and the road ahead of me. The land of limbo is my address for now~ please forward all mail.
Around the world and back again~

Up, Up, Up In The Air

Dearest Trick~
Do you live in the clouds now? In my mind you live in a beautiful space up in the sky... your carpet is fluffy white cotton, your lamp is the sun and at night the stars twinkle just enough so you can see your way to the fridge for an evening snack or to lighting the way to the bathroom. How silly, but this is what I picture. Each step is softened by the wind and you float in a comfort that could not exist here on earth. So my love is it true? When the night falls and I look up to the moon and talk to you, do you hear me? Are you up, up, up in the air? I like to think so.

Now on a plane I find myself so close to you. The bright light shines in the horizon and I can't help but think that maybe ~ just maybe it is you lighting the way for me. I feel closer to you here thousands of feet off the ground then ever. As we climb through the clouds I feel like I am soaring towards you. But like all trips I will land soon and once again leave this closeness, this magical place in the sky, this heaven as I see it. I wish I could walk among the soft cotton I see outside the window. I look desperately for any sign of you. The shapes of the fluffy white puffs change and shift. The sun rises and beautiful orange and reds fill the sky. It is you painting a picture for me~ I know it. I can feel you you up here. It is as if this cramped seat has become the most comfortable furniture I have ever known.

For a brief moment when we fly we are able to cross into this magical space where we get to dance among the heavens. We are shown the most beautiful of visions in the distance. There is peace and silence and if I squint really hard as I look out the window I see you... playing among the horizon, laughing with the angels and welcoming the new souls sent your way.

I now love to travel, love to be on a plane where the miles are erased and you fly with me my love. If you look Trick, if you look really hard you will see it is me waving to you through the window of the flying machine that brings us so close I can almost touch you. Up, up, up in the air is the place where WE are still US. Flying with you in my heart always.
Around the world and back again~

Flaws

Dearest Trick~

I know that it has been some time since I have written. I fear to say that the pain has consumed me these past few days. And when I take but a moment to tissue away the tears, walk out of my self-pity, I am reminded of my flaws. I am once again able to dance in the idea that what makes me harsh on myself…well, you loved all those parts. How incredibly lucky I have been to have known this type of love. The kind of love where your partner truly absorbs and understands all the intricacies of who you are, how you think, how walk in this world.

If someone would have told me when I was young that the fact that I laugh at my own jokes so hard I can’t get the punch line out would warm another’s heart I would think them a great liar. If I was told that there was man who would love EVERY curve I had, every wrinkle, every pound… I would most likely laugh in their face. If my silly mispronunciation of words, lack of ability to spell and horrific math skills would lead another to call me brilliant despite it         ~ I would most likely fall on my face. But all of those flaws, all of the things I grew up dreading about myself, you taught me to love. And in that I found out that there are a few of us lucky enough to be loved in a way that great novels are written. You know what I mean, long embraces in the rain, slow music playing that leads to the prefect kiss, the happily ever after us girls are raised to believe in.

Lately I have felt more alone, more broken, more selfish, and incredibly scared for the road ahead. I saw all of it as flaws. And now as I sit in bed in the early hours of morning and write this I hear you reminding me that who I am ~ all of me is 100% perfect for you ~ even my imperfections. And all of a sudden I can let me flaws show. I can bend and share and cry. I can slowly move forward and leave a tattered footprint. How lucky I am, I had a man who loved me… flaws and all. The only flaw in the world right now… well it is that you are not here.

Around the world and back again~

HOME

Dearest Trick~

Home hasn’t been a place in space but more a place in my heart… a place where you and I lived, loved and dreamed. My HOME with you existed in a long narrow flat where the cold winds of a Chicago winter whistled through the plastic you put up to cover the windows each year. It was a floor to ceiling window and light filled space where we danced and laughed and dared to pounder the greatness that was us. It was a throw back apartment with funny western doors leading to the kitchen where you swept me off my feet for the first time in the California sunshine. It was 100-year-old wood floors that we sat and ate our first meal on as homeowners and basked in the adventures ahead. The space changed ~ the HOME never did, as YOU are my home.

In basic terms home is a place where you rest your head, where you find shelter, where you feed your body and soul, where you clean and wash away your worries, where you sleep and dream, where you get to be authentically you, where you are SAFE. And in 2001 I found my home for the very first time, I found you. You opened the DOORS to your heart and welcomed me in. You DUSTED away any pain I had from childhood and BAKED meals of hope and joy.  My home was grander than any mansion. It was warmer than the hottest of summer days. It smelled of opportunity, adventure, understanding, and LOVE. You created the best home any girl could ever want. It was as if I won the real estate lottery. My home was bigger, brighter, warmer, prettier, and stronger then I ever dreamed a place to live. As a child I never felt like I belonged. NY was never home, it was never me. I didn’t understand the concept… I thought home was place. How silly I was. Home is a feeling.

And now I feel like I am on the metaphoric line of the soup kitchen of pain. This type of homelessness goes beyond the walls that surround me. I am hungry for a feeling that will never be again. I want to be warmed by the fire of your love that is now gone. I want to sleep in the arms that will never embrace me on this earth.  This HOMElessness covers me in the dirt of widowhood, the filth of heartbreak, the hunger of loneliness, the fear of never feeling THAT feeling again. You know the one, the feeling I felt each time you tucked my arms deep inside your hugs and held my head. I miss my home. I miss having a place were I can dream and rest. I miss laughing and feeding the essence of who I am. I miss YOU, my house, my structure, my foundation, my HOME.

So I wander the streets of this life. I look in the eyes of others I pass wishing to see the light, but it does not seem to be. The light of my home went out on April 29, 2011. The doors were locked, the key tossed in the ashes. The curtains were drawn as I held your hand and you slipped away. I have been evicted from my life… and I am not sure why as I always paid my rent on time, I always loved you. It is true what they say, ‘home IS where the heart is’… and my home is broken, is torn down, and has been demolished. I have wonderful friends and family who like a good shelter have supported me. But, without you my heart and soul remain on the roads of existence traveling until I find my HOME once again.

Around the world and back again~

Spiritual Sabbatical

Dearest Trick~

I find myself at these crossroads in life and in my spiritual path. I can’t help but question if there is a higher power how could he/she take such wonderful people and be selfish enough to call them back instead of letting them grace the earth and bring change and happiness to others?! You and I were always spiritual even though we lacked to be religious. And now when so many grab for god, I am gabbing for you. I wonder how this universe works and where I fit in the puzzle we call our existence? I would love to say that I pray, but in reality it is really just a time that I talk to YOU. I would love to say that there is some old dude with a gray beard in the sky looking down on us with puppet strings masterminding the human adventure. But, I have come to not believe those things. I have come to question my own beliefs, my own reality, my own spirituality, and my own truth.

In a 9-month span I lost you and my dad. In 9 years I quietly stood by and watched 5 amazing people leave this world, leave my world ~ but never leaving my life! From my mom to your mom and dad and now my dad, I have endured what all children fear and at some point find to be reality~ being parentless, an orphan of sorts. But to lose you…that has made me question everything. And thus I find myself on a spiritual sabbatical. I search for answers on how the mysteries of our universe work, how it is that the stories of our lives play out as they do.  And in this journey I have learned so much, I have become so wise in ways and yet an infant in so many other ways.

The one thing I am sure of is that my path in this life is to learn about love, to share love, to be loved and to love in return. For some that may be love of a higher power, for some love a child, for some love of a parent, for some love of a place or passion, for me it is LOVE in its purest form… love of YOU.  I know that what we put out we receive, that we are not handed more then we can handle, that as beings we are stronger then we give ourselves credit for. And so now at these crossroads I question what my faith is in. I question not WHY this has happened to me, but WHAT can I learn from it.  And the lesson on this sabbatical I have taken is starting oh so slowly to form.

God or a higher power is NOT a puppet master but more the good that lives in us. To me it is not a he or a she or an it…it is US. We have the power to change the world, to make others smile, to soften the blows of life, to create a more peaceful journey. And this life we are given is one big class, one big opportunity to learn and share and grow. So maybe my lesson, what I can grow from, what I can share is LOVE. And my dear I know what love is because you loved me. How lucky I am. I might be questioning for a long time what life is all about. I might be growing spiritually for a while to come (I hope). I might question if there is a god. I might cry myself to sleep for some time to come. I might be dumbfounded by how everything has unfolded in my world. But, I am SURE of the fact that I have been given more then most~ I have been given YOU, and in that I have learned so much. If a ‘higher power’ is here to teach us, to hold us when we are brought to our knees, to give us faith when we question everything, to open our eyes to the beauty that surrounds us… then I guess god does exist because maybe god is YOU!

Around the world and back again~

There Is No Crying In Baseball!

Dearest Trick~

I remember when we first moved in together and the preverbal ‘other shoe’ dropped. You LOVED baseball~ aarrggghhhhhh! Growing up in New York I might have been the only person in the whole state that found the game of hitting a ball with a bat boring. And there you were in Los Angles CA dressed to the nines in Chicago CUBS gear. So simply you exposed me to your love, your team ~ the very special CUBS. Instantly I was fan, even if I did not understand the game, I understood the excitement and the love of rooting for an underdog.

“There is no crying in baseball!” But year after year us sports fans tend to cry more then we cheer. Our hearts are broken again and again as we lack to make the playoffs, win the World Series (the Stanley Cup, Super Bowl, US Open… you get the idea) be the ones that end up on top. But my love, that might be the root of the problem we fans have in rooting. You see as humans we spend too much time waiting for the end result, fighting for the glory, climbing and clawing our way to win. And in that, we miss the most unique and amazing moments. We forget to focus on the little gains. The batboy who dreamed of walking on Wrigley green holding wood in his hand~ that is beautiful. Or the rookie getting to bat for the very first time, look that comes on his face, the joy that fills his heart even when he strikes out. Just as a walk in the rain with you was better to me then a ‘grand slam’ dinner out! Even the losses, even when our teams (*or life for that matter) is on a losing streak ~ we have awesome moments to grow and laugh and love.

This game of life is so much like baseball. It can have extra innings or end quite quickly, it can be rained out at times or be a three-beer afternoon with friends. So maybe if we all looked sports for the little moments of greatness and not the big wins, maybe if we all looked at life like that ~ maybe just maybe this game we all play would be more memorable, more fulfilling, more fun and most of all more LOVING. You and I as a couple might not have been able to go into extra innings. Our game got rained out way too early. But even in the loss of being able to get up to bat with you again, I feel like I won the world series because for how ever short the time~ I got to play this game with YOU. I will take ever strike that life sends my way. I will laugh as I run the bases and grow and learn. And I find comfort in knowing that there need not be any tears in this ‘life of baseball’ because when I finally slide into home plate YOU will be waiting for me!

Around the world and back again~

The Witching Hour

Dearest Trick~

The world outside my window is silent. The cars have stopped their engines, the children have silenced their games, the dogs no longer bark and the wind is the only sound left. It is in this time ~ in the witching hour that I hear you! I would guess that if everyone LISTENED when sleep is far from you, you will hear voices of your loved ones once again ringing in your ear. And now at this moment, I get the pleasure of hearing you. I hear you cheering me on as I face yet another loss, another person to grieve, a life with no parents. I hear you telling me “It’s okay” when I need the tears to stain my skin for a bit. I hear you quietly drumming me along as I move each day step by step into this new woman.  

It is amazing how even when I lack to have you right next to me, when the sound of your voice has been taken from this earth~ how I am still able to hear you. When you love someone , truly love them, with ever fiber of your heart…distance and time does not squash their voice. As your voice, your soft melody lives inside of who I am. I believe that all of us who have had to face the truth of loss can sit in the silence no matter how many days, months, years pass~ we can still hear you! We can still get the advice and support we so desperately claim we miss by sitting in the quietness and listening to our inner self speaking your knowledge.

Last week when I was dad’s packing his things the noise of the world, the blasting sounds of his sudden passing drowned out YOU. I cried each night wishing I still had you by my side. Feeling like I was not strong enough to make it through without you. I lacked to stop and listen in the silence. I lacked to hear your voice that lives in me because life was spinning too fast and out of control. Now I am able to quiet the mind, the space I live in, my world and there you are as loud as can be once again supporting me. I hear you telling me to stand tall. I hear you coaching me to face what no longer is part of my life and to be not scared but excited about the adventures that wait ahead of me.

So my love, I know I talk too much. I know that for most of our marriage you heard me tell the same stories over and over and over again. But now I am listening. Now I hear you reminding me of who I am, of my strength, of the life WE worked on making, on the dreams YOU still have for me. I will listen, I will listen, I will listen in the silence of the witching hour.

Around the world and back again~