This morning I am sitting in the garden, I am realizing this may be one of the last mornings I will be here in this quiet place. It is a bit chilly. It makes me a bit sad. I love sitting here listing to the birds, watching the hummingbirds flit around. I will miss this routine.
A good friend of Jason’s posted this on his Facebook wall for his birthday. “She was no longer wrestling with grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts.” – George Elliot. She went on to write “Jason, you are missed. Not in storms of weeping, not in cries of pain, but in quiet ways on everyday.” – JW
I did not see it until yesterday. I am not sure how I missed it, but the timing of seeing it yesterday was amazing. I had just been thinking over this last week, that I seem to be having more sad days, not really even whole days but moments. I have been trying to figure out why. It dawned on me yesterday.
Tim and I took a drive to Tillamook, with the ultimate destination Lincoln City for a concert in the evening. Whenever I go to that part of the coast I can not help but think about the many times Chelsey, Jason and I toured the cheese factory there. How Jason loved cheese curds. When I am near there, I always want to stop at a little fruit stand near Beaver. We stopped yesterday, and as I wandered around I wondered to myself why I was there. This fruit stand is not particularly a favorite, the service lacks something. It is disorganized, and expensive. As I was looking and trying to figure out why I always have to stop there, I remembered. This was one of Jason’s favorite stops, not because he loved fruit or veggies, but they have a hot sauce bar with about 30 different sauces to sample. Jason loved this, he would stand there and sample and sample and sample. Eventually he would pick a favorite and buy it, but oh he loved his hot sauces.
I realized in that moment why I am having these moment more often. It is not just that this is the one year, it is that for many months as memories came to me I would wrap them up and put them away to be looked at another time. Precious nuggets, to be dealt with later, I could not give them more than a quick glance. I was sure I would unravel.
I am finding now that I am unwrapping some of those memories, one or two at a time, looking at them, feeling them, enjoying them. I will take these precious nuggets, examine them, polish them, hold them in my heart, and proudly display them on the shelf of my mind. Yes, they will make me sad at times, but they are too precious to keep locked up. This is part of my healing.