Two Steps Forward

The headstone was set as planned last Monday, on Valentine's day. 

I'd had an extremely difficult week leading up to that time.  Perhaps I was just dreading the unknown effect of setting that stone in place.  Last week I called a "two step back" week.

Several friends and relatives commented to me that it was appropriate and even poetic for our headstone to be set in place on Valentine's day.  At the time I had difficulty realizing they were, perhaps, correct.  As I sat on a stone wall in the cemetery last Monday, watching the workers set the stone in place, a calm seemed to come over me.  The stone is not at all flashy but it is very elegant.  It is substantial, strong, beautiful...much like the love affair Bonnie and I shared for so many years.  Having it there gave me a sense of closure that I had not been able to accept before.

It will be legible for many generations.  The love that it represents will last throughout eternity.

Somehow, having that stone in place has enabled me to take two steps forward this week.  It is as if the strength of that stone, the vary weight of it, grounded me.  Instead of being washed away by every wave of emotion that hit me, I was able to continue standing.  The waves were still there, and they may always be there, but somehow this week I've been able to continue walking when they hit. 

The fog that I've been in lifted, ever so slightly, this week as well.  The clarity of thought and focus is nowhere near what it once was, but it has been better for several days.  To feel a small sense of clarity again is priceless.

Yesterday, I was talking to a neighbor while I was spreading mulch in the front flower bed.  He described grief as a deep wound that heals ever so slowly.  It heals from the inside out.  I added that you are never the same after being wounded this deeply.  Then, after all the healing that can take place has taken place, there is a scar that lasts as long as you live.  I do not know how much 'healing' will take place for me.  I do know that there will always be a scar.  But, that is ok.  The scar will be a reminder of the blessings I've had with Bonnie.  I'd never give up the memories of those wonderful years to be rid of a scar.  It is worth the trade, as painful as it is.   

I want to thank all of you for your prayers and your concern and your kindness.  As alone as I've felt this winter I know you were there for me.  For the last, almost four months, I've just been trying to get through one more day.  As my brain clears, if even a little, I am more aware of friends, neighbors, concerns.

There is much more to write.  There is much more to tell you.  I want to tell you of how I've kept somewhat sane by keeping busy; of some of the potentially exciting things that may unfold as a result of the keeping busy; of some of the treasures of darkness that have been revealed.  Those will be subjects of future posts.

For now, I am thankful for two steps forward.  I am even more thankful for a love that was, is, and will be, stronger, weightier and longer-lasting than even that black granite headstone.