I feel discombobulated. Grieving, yes. Fatigued after tracking bills, going to Doctors, organizing volumes of paper into files, yes. Helping my stepdaughter sell her house and move, yes. Looking over my husband’s shoulder to see how he was doing, yes.  But it’s more, more than the long list of what happened.

It’s too many endings, no obvious beginnings, feeling lost in space. The unrest raising questions about life: why are we here, what’s the bigger picture?  What does it mean to be alone and to see that possibility on the horizon. Are we here to surrender or to choose what we want? If you give up getting into heaven, what’s left? I don’t mean the polar opposite, but rather can you get excited about coming back to do all this again?

We are getting ready to scatter Kelly’s ashes next week. The spot is a park near Bowling Green, Ky called Phil Moore Park. Joseph’s cousin has been involved with the park since her son ran track around the perimeter. (he’s now taking his medical boards so it has been a while.) There is a tree we “donated” with Kelly’s name on it.  Our tree died, Kelly’s is flourishing. The park has family connections and is the only place Joseph thought was a fit.

Both of us are coming to grip with all that transpired over the past four months, over the past year and a half, and even over her life. She passed May 12th. She would have been 55 on May 16th.

What keeps coming home to me is how complex a person’s life is. How many different lens you can see it through, and while looking through one, how you miss “the rest of the story.”

My lens are many. Much was triggered. I’ll be writing about my questions, my learning, at least I think I will.  It’s a way to process, to come to peace with paradox and complexity.
Everything written will be just a point in time seen through a lens. Not the truth, not a lie…..just a story to make sense of experiences; writing to sort through the intertwining of lives.