There is life outside my window. The blue asters have taken over the perennial bed. The goldenrod is blooming and the hostas and crepe myrtles are taking their last bow for the summer. The butterflies lazily float by my window followed by the busy hummingbird that is here and gone in a blink.
It’s like this year – gone in a blink. I thought the year would be a long one and it has in many ways. But now that September 12 is around the corner, there is part of me that does not want to cross the anniversary of my child’s death. There is part of me that does not want to let go of Megan, but to stay in this one-year allowed time of grieving. We had no appetite at Thanksgiving but survived and escaped for Christmas. We entered the New Year with great loss but with hope to survive. We received the gift of five white doves over our heads on Good Friday. We have rested and remembered so much as the summer months have slipped by, providing many thoughts and memories of life and death and the mystery of it all.
There will be some part of me down deep that will always scream “NO!” to the reality of my loss. There will be some part of me that will always want life to be the way it was before 2007. There will be some part of me that cannot let go completely. And based on what I have read and learned, that may not be the healthy way to move forward. I think at some point I am supposed to say good-bye to Megan. I am supposed to close the door and move to some new spot. I am supposed to find new meaning and purpose, discover new possibilities, and love with new tenderness and depth.
This website has been my helpful, working friend now for two years. I have sat with it and wrestled out my thoughts and feelings. It has seen all my deleted words, pointed out confusing phrases and unnecessary adjectives. It has offered solace while I sat and cried and helped me to heal in ways in which I probably am not aware. It has given me a nod of approval when my words pointed away from my self-pity and to a greater source. It has been with me since June of 2007 and to date the two of us have posted 100 entries. It is hard to tell a friend good-bye, but the time has come for me to close this door and move to some new spot to write.
While I wait and work to find a publisher for a book, my website is “under construction” and I am blogging. What a strange word – blogging. Some of you have found me and I hope all of you will go with me. If you are new to blogs (that makes two of us), go to marciabgaddis.blogspot.com and it will pop up. The name of it is The Olive Branch which you can also Google and some of the articles will show there. If you scroll down to the bottom or look to the side, there is a place to become a follower and maybe find a way to subscribe if you wish (I think all this is correct). Savvy, heh?
Don’t be surprised if you find me in some new places with some new things to write about – I’m off to work on discovering those new possibilities. One thing I have learned through this experience is that God surprises me and I am grateful. I leave you with a beautiful scripture written in Megan’s handwriting. I guess it is fitting that she signs us off:
“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope. The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning…great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in Him”. The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him. Lamentations 3:21-15
