Play Me A Song, Irene
8:25 a.m.
I just posted in the FB grief support group a message reflecting what I've been doing the past couple of days. Part of that post was about my envisioning session last night where I envisioned myself visiting Irene. I wrote in the group that Irene had shown me our house over there and that nothing was ever lost or destroyed, that we could recreate anything from our life here to our home there. I wrote that she showed me some of what she had added to our home there from our life here. I also wrote that she told me that we could pursue any of our heartfelt desires there - creative arts & crafts, learning, adventures, etc.
When I was done writing the post I felt very good about it, but before I posted it I went to use the bathroom and asked Irene if she thought it was a good post and if she was okay with it. I walked into the kitchen and saw a couple of things lying on the floor in front of the refrigerator; one was a colored piece of paper cut out in the shape of a heart, and the other was a magnet that said "Creative Home Arts Club". I don't know how you can get any more direct confirmation than that short of her just appearing and giving me a thumbs up sign.
10:30 p.m.
Earlier today, after posting the above, I started thinking about the doubt that is, I think, most often the root of when I get sad, and that is the idea that maybe Irene doesn't feel the same way towards me now that she's on the other side, that maybe my envisioning of what we are about and who we are to each other is mostly one-sided. These are the kind of things that run through your head when you don't have face to face eye contact in a real world setting. Even though she told me countless times, and even though the overwhelming evidence of our lives here demonstrate it; and I've received sign after sign and message after message - that's just human, physical nature, especially when you're going through the grief process.
As I was doing some work via the computer, I decided to play our new "our song" again - "I Can't Wait". It always makes me happy to hear and reminds me of the sign and understanding she gave me with that song. Generally I don't let more songs play via random shuffle because some of them can be very painful these days. This time I asked Irene if she'd like to play a song and this is what she played:
I just posted in the FB grief support group a message reflecting what I've been doing the past couple of days. Part of that post was about my envisioning session last night where I envisioned myself visiting Irene. I wrote in the group that Irene had shown me our house over there and that nothing was ever lost or destroyed, that we could recreate anything from our life here to our home there. I wrote that she showed me some of what she had added to our home there from our life here. I also wrote that she told me that we could pursue any of our heartfelt desires there - creative arts & crafts, learning, adventures, etc.
When I was done writing the post I felt very good about it, but before I posted it I went to use the bathroom and asked Irene if she thought it was a good post and if she was okay with it. I walked into the kitchen and saw a couple of things lying on the floor in front of the refrigerator; one was a colored piece of paper cut out in the shape of a heart, and the other was a magnet that said "Creative Home Arts Club". I don't know how you can get any more direct confirmation than that short of her just appearing and giving me a thumbs up sign.
10:30 p.m.
Earlier today, after posting the above, I started thinking about the doubt that is, I think, most often the root of when I get sad, and that is the idea that maybe Irene doesn't feel the same way towards me now that she's on the other side, that maybe my envisioning of what we are about and who we are to each other is mostly one-sided. These are the kind of things that run through your head when you don't have face to face eye contact in a real world setting. Even though she told me countless times, and even though the overwhelming evidence of our lives here demonstrate it; and I've received sign after sign and message after message - that's just human, physical nature, especially when you're going through the grief process.
As I was doing some work via the computer, I decided to play our new "our song" again - "I Can't Wait". It always makes me happy to hear and reminds me of the sign and understanding she gave me with that song. Generally I don't let more songs play via random shuffle because some of them can be very painful these days. This time I asked Irene if she'd like to play a song and this is what she played:
You ask me if there'll come a time
When I grow tired of you
Never my love
Never my love
You wonder if this heart of mine
Will lose its desire for you
Never my love
Never my love
What makes you think love will end
When you know that my whole life depends
On you (on you)
Never my love
Never my love
You say you fear I'll change my mind
And I won't require you
Never my love
Never my love
How can you think love will end
When I've asked you to spend your whole life
With me (with me, with me)
That's wonderful !
ReplyDelete