After an afternoon of thunderstorms, as commonly happens here, the power went out right before dark. Tonight, rather than firing up the noisy generator, I decided to enjoy the peace and quiet in the candlelit glow of the house for awhile. No TV, no music, no fans, no eerie ice maker noises. Just the sounds of silence, like floating in water on your back with your ears submerged.
Lately, I’ve been keeping myself occupied and busy with the routine farm chores, mowing, and some “not so minor” vehicle repairs which have required diligent heat and hydration mitigation steps due to the extreme temperatures and humidity level. It’s nice to just sit here and be still and quiet for a few hours.
Sometimes grief is like a power outage that overloads the capacity of the body and mind to operate normally. It can feel like the lights are out and you are stumbling around in the dark. Lately I’ve been missing you and trying to keep myself busy to keep from dwelling on it. That works up to a point. But sometimes, the only thing to do is just sit still and be in the moment with the darkness and the quiet and the memories.
It’s been almost eight months now, and I don’t ever want to forget you. The trick, I think, is to reach a balance where life moves forward without you and the memories are less painful and sad. So tonight I’m just sitting here in the quiet semi-darkness wishing you were here with me to enjoy being off the grid for a brief time while we wait for the normalcy of our powered existence to be restored.
It strikes me that I have moved past the “raging storm” phase of grief where the traumatic aftershock of loss and separation turns everything upside down. The tumultuous waters now are calmed somewhat by the realistic acceptance of your absence and adjustment to the new reality without you. However, like a wild mountain river, the current is ever pushing forward and, between the calm sections, there are rocks and occasional rapids to navigate along this next phase of the journey. So, I better hang on!
Reminds me of scripture…”be still and know that I am God…” even in the least hectic times not punctuated by grief, it is hard to be still! You used that power outage well!