This Day That Date
I had already gone to bed and my cell phone was still in my purse in the other room when my good friend and agent, Kenneth Mancel called the other night. By the time I got to it, the call had already gone to the message center. I sunk back knowing the call center was full. I have not picked up my messages for... OMG it's been over three weeks now!
I had already gone to bed and my cell phone was still in my purse in the other room when my good friend and agent, Kenneth Mancel called the other night. By the time I got to it, the call had already gone to the message center. I sunk back knowing the call center was full. I have not picked up my messages for… OMG it’s been over three weeks now!
Even though, I am still painfully aware that I am avoiding messages, I have spoken to close friends and family during this time. So, why I am doing this when there doesn’t seem to be any logical reason for it? After all, no one is harassing me about past due bills or asking me to take care of things I don’t want to face anymore. What is my problem?
It has been five months now since Jack’s passing. I am beginning to feel guilty that I keep using the date of his death as a reference point in my life. I don’t know now if this habit will ever end, but I can’t seem to stop relating everything that happens in my life to “that date”.
I remember reading a story called “Dash”, about the dash between the dates of birth and death and how it represented the life one lived in-between. I still cringe a little remembering how stealthily Jack’s birthday slipped by me last month. How is it that the last date has suddenly become more important than the first date and as for the dash…? Well if truth be told, the sentimental stuff is not really very helpful for me at the moment.
So much has changed since that date, my home, my city, my status, my whole identity for that matter. I am no longer Jack’s wife or business partner. I am no longer part of the couple everyone on the island knew. There are no more familiar waitresses, shop owners or friends to vicariously run into. Everything is new, and everyone is different, including me. Life after death, is truly a whole new life.
Maybe that’s why “that date” is so important. Perhaps that date is more than a mark of a life ending. Perhaps that same day is also a beginning. For Jack it was a birth into his new life in heaven. I guess it was a sort of birth for me too, not one I may have chosen mind you, but how much choice do we have regarding the date, or for that matter the circumstances of any birth?
What does any of this have to with my not picking up my messages? Probably nothing, but since I am still so young, at least in this new phase of my life, I think I’ll just pick up my messages, clear up the space and see what tomorrow brings.
Cardinal Cheers & Blessings,