Wind Surfing and Wedding Crashing

September 27, 2014, three Saturdays before my eldest daughter’s wedding, I sat on my side porch enjoying breakfast and a hot cup of black coffee, while pondering my very long to-do list. It was a windy morning, windier than usual, and looking up, I saw a hawk soaring just above my head. With no need to flap its wings, the hawk simply glided back and forth between the gusty currents. I could almost feel the bird’s joy at its ability to float effortlessly, borne up by a greater power than itself, wings stretched out full-width, relaxed and at peace. I knew it was her. Ever since she flew back from VA with me this past summer, I know she’s always flying now – doing what she was too afraid to do before. The fear has left her entirely.

The hawk’s wings finally started beating as it veered off to my right to join three companions who I named my now-dead cousins. The four of them had such fun! A couple of days later I told my parents the story, that she visited me on Saturday as a hawk. Mom’s response: “I can’t believe you said that. The other day a hawk landed on the bush in front of our kitchen window and just sat there. I told your Dad, ‘Look, she’s here.'” I was not surprised.

I started thinking about how much I would miss her come wedding day, especially her ability to put together amazing decorations for the event. It occurred to me, then, that had she lived, she would not have been able to design or assemble decorations for, attend, or – even if she could come – enjoy, my daughter’s wedding. After seeing the hawk, I felt certain she would be there celebrating with us – whole and fully alive, truly herself.

I thought, Well, Dit, I would save you a seat, but I know you’ll be too busy soaring. Enjoy the view!

It also came to me that this is how she would fill out the RSVP card:

RSVP Dit

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As it turns out, wedding day was overcast and drizzly. We were forced to move the  ceremony inside. There was just enough rain to keep me from looking for her overhead the few times I walked back and forth from the cottage to the venue.

But I missed her. I missed watching her arrange the table decorations as only she could. You should have seen the elegance and grace her decorations brought to my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary! I missed seeing her smile, and hearing her chat and laugh with the guests (she laughed often, and it was contagious), and cutting her big eyes over at me to communicate some inside joke only I would understand. I missed quipping back and forth with her about inane things as we always did. Most of all, I missed watching her dance. She would have been first on the floor and last to leave, and perhaps she was, unseen by those who love and miss her so much.

She would have loved this moment from the rehearsal:

And while I had no tangible sense of her presence at the wedding, I believe somehow she was there …

… guiding my daughter’s hands to braid her sister’s hair

Rachel Wedding Braid

 

 

 

… helping me dress the Bride for her big day

IMG_1055

 

… crying with me when the Bride’s father choked up in the middle of his toast

 

 

 

 

 

… laughing with us at the song her nieces and nephew shared

… smiling knowingly at me when two young bridesmaids made eyes at my handsome, 15-yr. old son

IMG_1104… and so many more moments!

Ditty, words are not enough to express how much it hurt not having you there. Can you feel the pain in my heart or taste my tears? I have to say, I was proud of myself this weekend. I managed to put aside the grief until after the festivities were over. I truly enjoyed my daughter’s wedding, just as you would have wanted me to. But the ‘putting aside’ was a conscious effort made necessary by memories and thoughts of you in that environment, that at times, threatened to overwhelm. I am glad that I did not see you flying about overhead – it would have meant you were not inside with us, and that would have truly broken my heart. Instead, my heart is full and whole, knowing you walked through such a special day with us.

 

 I love you bunches and bunches and tons and tons,

kisses-HUG

 

 

 

Your li’l Sis,

C

Finish the Prompt Tuesday (#3)

The Matticus Kingdom just keeps finding a gauntlet to throw. Here is the latest.

The Prompt:

Gently rubbing throbbing temples provided the illusion of relief without actually carrying through with the promise.  Another futile second and the hands dropped, defeated, and eyes flared open again.  Angry red lines coursed away from pools of deep blue that framed anguished black pupils.  Creases above eyebrows and worry lines appeared in the recently vacated spaces.

Neighbors cast furtive glances, some of concern, some of blame, and some of boredom, and they were all ignored.  There was no time or energy to deal with their intrigue, there was only pain.  Constant.  Intense.  It burrowed further in, disrupting the normal flow of tissues and synapses.  Eyes closed once more for balance but the bursts of light cascading in synchronized waves against eyelids required hands to go fumbling in search of something solid to cling to.

Balance restored, slowly.  Achingly slowly.  The throbbing headache remained.

Dark thoughts, twisted and writhing with mischief, found a way to surface when no others would or could: quick ways to end the suffering, names of those at fault for the current agony and how best to serve a fitting revenge, and the long road to recovery hidden in shadows and chains.  The abused heart lurched haltingly as it became wrapped in despair.  Knees grew weak.  Eyes, still hidden protectively behind their lids, rolled upwards.  Gravity did the rest and cooling air rushed passed falling limbs…

Now for my part:

Hours, or only an instant, passed by in a blur. Eyelids opened to the blue and white foam fast approaching. Time crystallized and stopped. Birds mid-flight, their wings stretched to full span, seemed frozen on the wind, like a stop-action photo. Trees stood still, holding their breath, while the waters of the fall below ceased their downward plunge, the roar deadened into deafening silence. It seemed to last an eternity, until the seconds began ticking again, first in slow succession like hours, then quickening their pace into minutes, then screaming past until – SNAP!

The taut bungee cord wrenched Dave’s body back up towards the old railway bridge. The pain was gone now, for the moment. He knew it would return once the rush was over. Adrenaline provided the only relief he could find these days for the pounding behind his eyeballs. He began to perceive the shouts of his fellow thrill-seekers, but he could truly hear the disapproving silence of the other onlookers.

Too far below to read the signs the disgruntled protestors still carried, he didn’t need to see them to know their message. The town had been in an uproar all winter over the decision to open the historic bridge to a local company intent on using it as a launch site for bungee jumpers. Dave was all for it – his now-empty savings account attested to his determination to find any way possible to rid himself of the relentless pain he now suffered.

Flinging his arms wide as if he planned to embrace the rocks before him, he let out a shout of delight as the cord released him downwards once more. This time there was no familiar SNAP of a rebound. Instead there was a tearing sound as the cord unraveled and broke into two ragged pieces.

Dave had time for one thought as he rushed towards the rocky waterfall below: “Well, at least the headaches will be over,” and he smiled in anticipation of that end.

Winging It

For my Sister, who I will always remember as Peter Pan.

From my window seat I gazed out at rivers and roads as they wound their ways over the landscape below, occasionally dimmed by my tears.
From my window seat I gazed out at rivers and roads as they wound along over the landscape, occasionally blurred by tears.

 

Two winding roads brought us here

with twists and turns

unexpected

 

Like ribbons intertwined

our paths would cross

until

 

Separately we traveled

each path’s distance

unknown

 

One winding road leads me on

with bends and forks

unforeseen

 

My path’s sharp angles

obscure choices ahead

unwritten

 

Always looking, searching

plagued with questions

unanswered

 

Looking through your eyes

or you through mine

unblinking

 

Flight impossible for fear

now you soar with me

untethered

My Sister as Peter Pan circa 1968
My Sister as Peter Pan circa 1968