When Scott first told me the cancer had come back and he had 2-4 months to live, I let out a whale of a wail. His sister Lindy was there with me, holding my hand, as Scott had already told her and he wanted her there with me to be my witness and my strength when he called me from the hospital. That primal cry had to be released. Lately I have released it a few more times in the safety of my home surrounded by a deep buffer of trees and nobody to hear. I need to know why I am screaming at the top of my lungs.
So I meditate until it comes to me: I could not scream out with wild abandon in India. It would have jeopardized the delicate balance of me appearing to be a capable, sane, and legitimate guardian for Scott. Someone would have called The Authorities and put me in an asylum, I imagined. My authority might have come into question. As much as I fell apart at times over there, most of it was pent up inside me in the deepest recesses of my heart. The healing process requires the screams be released. It’s a positive sign that I am able to let out a whale of a wail. It means I feel safe. I feel stronger. I am no longer numb nor am I afraid that I am going crazy. I am alive and I know my beloved is not coming back.
But then, he does. In magical ways…
This painting that was hung in a magnet frame securely on our fridge in High Point was on the kitchen floor face up when I got back from summer in Maine. Why now? I can only believe it to be Scott. W/hug + See U Soon!
Later, I speak with Lindy and she tells me that as she is arriving at market for the furniture show, at the precise moment she crosses over Farriss Avenue (where Scott and I live) on her way downtown the radio announces a song called “Dog & Butterfly”… his kids were our dogs and of course my blog followers know the butterfly stories well. A few days later I have the TV turned to CNN while working on my laptop, writing this blogpost. I hear the announcer say the name of their visiting forensics expert: Joseph Scott Morgan.
In the eyes of lovers, everything is beautiful. This fortune cookie saying was tucked into the frame with the watercolor painting Scott made for me. This is my mantra for today.