The Final Gift

*This will be my final entry on this blog.  Although I haven't written here much lately,  what I did write helped me through the loss, the pain.  It helped me survive.  I have moved through the grief.  The losses still cause sadness, but it no longer tears me apart.  I am grateful to this blog - I always wanted to write, but was fearful.  The pain catapulted me though the fear; I had to write to save my sanity.  From the loss I have been given new gifts.  I am building a new life and finally feel excited once again about living. Peace and love to any of you reading this.

The Final Gift

The day came when the pain of remaining in his body became too great and he had to leave.  He had been ill for such a short time, but the disease had eroded his being slowly, quietly for a long time.  By the time he became seriously ill, it was too late.  But he stayed and fought.  He knew she needed him and he wanted to stay.  To love her, to protect her, to give her the safety and security he always had.  But now, he had to leave his body.

He knew she would be devastated.  They had been so connected, their souls entwined with every fiber of their beings.  He knew the pain it would cause her that all of those connections were abruptly, suddenly severed.   And so though he left his body, he stayed connected to the physical plane for her.

He watched helplessly as she first went through the shock, the disbelief.  And then the pain hit her like a tsunami.  He watched, incapable of providing comfort as she collapsed time and time again, pain ripping her apart.

He would take brief moments to explore the mysteries of the physical world he had always contemplated.  He traversed the Universe, time measured by her heartbeats.  He was finally able to understand gravity, that thing that had absorbed his mind.  “They can explain what gravity does, but they can’t explain why” he had said on countless occasions, wanting to know why.  He investigated black holes and saw the birth and death of stars.  He caught rides on meteors, streaking through the sky; knowing that when she saw them, she knew he was riding them like the character in Doctor Strangelove riding the bomb.

He always returned to keep an eye on her, though he was powerless to help. But he could not leave her yet.  He would leave signs.  A heart shaped rock, a feather.  She would see them and know he had left them for her to reassure her that he was still near.  Sometimes she would wander around their yard, looking at the night sky and talk to him and he wished with all his heart that he could answer her, could have stayed for her, that he could console her.

He watched helplessly as her father died and then their beloved tiny poodle died.  He watched with sorrow as the business she had started, the store he had wanted to succeed for her, failed.  He felt anguish as she was forced to sell their home, the home they had worked for together.  He lamented as she sold all they had built throughout the years, knowing how the loss would devastate her.

As she prepared to leave the town they had loved, he was unable to follow, his soul tied to the place they called home.  He still tried to send her signs, a feather here, a meteor shooting through the sky, but he could feel his connection to her stretching, thinning.   He could feel his ties to their lives loosening, but still he remained, knowing she still grieved and would need him one last time before they both would be freed.

She finally returned as he knew she would.  There were still ties left unfinished for her that she needed to release.   The first night she was there, he was able to visit her in her dream.  He knew she rarely remembered her dreams, but hoped he could give her what she needed to move on.  And so he went to her.  He took her in his arms as he had so many times throughout their years together, as he had the first night they met.  They had hugged and knew, knew they were home, knew they had found their mate.  He wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear “Never settle for anything less than this.  Never settle for someone who doesn’t make you feel secure and protected when he takes you in his arms.”  He kissed her gently, stroked her hair, her eyelids, her cheeks and hoped she felt him, hoped she had heard, hoped she would remember.

  

He needed to stay just a bit more, to do what he could to soothe and support her through the final stages of her accepting and finding peace.  He watched as she combined his ashes with those of their beloved pets, just as he desired.  He watched as she divided them up, some into a small urn made by an artist friend of theirs that looked like an aspen tree.  He appreciated the thoughtfulness as she honored his life as a logger, the life he had before they met.  He watched as she filled the tin can they had traveled with, the tin can that had been filled with the ashes of their coydog Misty.  They would sometimes stop, look at a spot, jest that Misty would have loved it here and leave bits of her ashes.   He had often joked that when he died, he wanted his ashes put in the tin and for her to leave bits of him here and there.  He felt joy as she did just that, feeling her heart lighten just a bit.  He watched as she took the rest of the ashes to a few of their sacred, special places.  The place where they had camped out for a month, before they settled down.  Next to a small creek, they had damned up a small spot and created a bathing hole where tiny fishes would tickle them, nibbling on their leg and arm hair as they bathed.  They had hiked with not only the dog alongside them, but the cats also following & had snickered at cats hiking.  Finally they had been forced out by the no-see-ums, almost invisible insects that bit and left uncomfortable welts.  After they had settle in town, they sometimes would drive out and visit their old spot.  She scattered some of his ashes on top of a rise, so he would be able to have a 360 degree view of the incomparable scenery.  Some were scattered by the precious creek.  They rest were put into a fire pit and she drew a heart in the ashes with a small stick.

Finally, she drove out to their favorite viewpoint, one they would always take time to stop at when driving home.  The view of the winding Colorado River, resplendent red rocks and the back drop of the majestic mountains.  She stood on the small incline made for photographers and scattered the remaining ashes, letting him float free.

He watched as she visited her old store, now an artists’ co-op.  She was able to see and accept that it was no longer her store.  He watched as she drove to look at their house, saw the changes and accepted that it was no longer their home.  He felt the bittersweetness of those moments, could see her pain transform into peace, acceptance, serenity.

On her final night before she returned to her new life, she went into the canyons.  As she sat on the edge of the ravine, absorbing the sound of the silence, the stars unmarred by ambient light, he felt her releasing her ties, letting go of her grief, preparing herself for the future, letting the past become the past.  He knew he would never fully leave her, he had become part of her,  healed her, helped create who she now was, had made her strong enough to withstand the obliteration of her life, their life.  He gave her his final gift.  As he felt the bonds that had shackled him to the physical plane diminish, he took one last ride on a meteor; generating a fireball that blazed through the dark night, leaving a trail glowing across the length of the horizon.  His job was done, she had made it through the pain to peace.  He knew love and joy would soon be hers.  He said goodbye, knowing she no longer needed him here.  It was time for each of them to be reborn into a their new lives, their new adventures.