I tell myself this story: "I have suffered a lot of loss in the last nine months." Loss. Suffered. Me. I say, "I lost my grandmother, my stepfather, my grandfather." I lost them - but what does that mean? Where are they? And from where to where have they gone? They are not missing - in fact, they are more present, here and now, in my consciousness than they were when I could hold their hands and kiss their cheeks. "Loss" connotes heaviness. Despair. Grief. Sorrow. There's a hole right in the middle of the word l-o-s-s. The truth of the matter is that three people I love dearly left their physical bodies. Left the earth on which I walk. But strangely, what I sense is that Gram, Chuck, and Pop have settled into a surprising place - into the pulse of my own beating heart. It's like they've been sewn into the fabric of my being, in a way that I never experienced before. Or... more likely, never noticed before. They are in my aliveness, in the movements of my limbs through space, …in my stride.   | Chuck is in the curl of my smile, ~ in my gaze. He's witnessing the world through my eyes, experiencing - with me, the first burst of sunshine over the mountains. His feet plunge, with mine, into the cool sand on a late summer day. Gram. Gram's warmth and gentleness encircles every person I embrace. These arms are her arms, her hands, mine. And Pop. Stoic. Quiet. Wise. Always enjoying his second and third helpings... he knows, and I know, that too much of a good thing is wonderful.  When I sit, I sit with them. When I nourish me, I feed them too. Maybe they're not lost at all, but rather, resting inside of me. I no longer step into my car and travel two hours to be with them, but rather, step inside of myself. l-o-s-s. A hole? Or a whole? As in wholeness, full circle...Yes, that feels right. Not lost... but very much H E> R E. Home. In Loving Memory: Adele Roca Charles Kuhn Carmen Roca |
