I went to do the last of my gardening for Michelle today. I really did not do too terribly much out in the garden, to be fair, but its immediate need was winding to a close. The frost in the air has signalled the end of active gardening for the season. The outside world tasks change to leaf raking, putting away of hoses and garden ornaments, planting spring bulbs and pulling up summer ones. My season of gardening is done.
It is a heavy feel. I made a difference for Michelle and offered what I could. She appreciated the help. It was a precious gift. So where do I go from here? I have been watching Murray and feeling for him in his waning days with the love of his life. Now she is gone. Now he is alone and must accept that so that he can move on to the next stage of his life. It is nowhere near as easy to do as the writing of it may suggest. While I was visiting with Murray I kept on saying "This is hard work." It is the hardest work one could ever imagine having to do. It is physically, emotionally, socially, and psychologically exhausting. Anyone who has ever touched loss in an intimate way would probably have more to add to this, but for those who haven't it is a start. I have to stop though. This is Murray's journey. Murray must make this trek on his own. I am giving him emotions through my experience and that does not do him justice or ultimately myself. I was reminded this afternoon that I still need to take care of me. At two years into the loss of my beloved husband and partner, I was told I am still fresh in my grief. I still have far to go. How can that be?
Life is quite the journey with many lessons to learn. My lesson today was that I do matter. I mattered to Michelle for a brief while, so that she could savour her garden one last time. I mattered to Murray, so that I could give him more time with Michelle and sharing of stories both good and bad. I matter to Randolph, who seems to think that I am a worthy person and is happy to see that I am beginning to believe it. I matter to my children, who run with smiles and screaming "Mommy!" with joy when I come to pick them up from daycare. I know that I could add many more to the list and it is a good thing. The last person I will add today though is a woman who used to attend yoga with me over a year ago. She was recovering from cancer treatments and was doing well, but had other health concerns at the time. She started into my class again today. After class she walked over to me and asked when we had seen each other last. I was reminded again of how I touch people as she shared that she had gone through another bout of cancer completely unrelated to the first. She more or less pushed and diagnosed some of it herself. She knew something was wrong with her and praised yoga and its ability to get oneself in touch with one's body as helping her to do this. Whether she believed in the benefits of yoga before, she overwhelming believes know. And she walked over to me and had to share her story with me. I know her, but only through once a week yoga from over a year ago. It touched me that she felt the need to share with me. I must mean something to her too. Not the world, but just a little piece of it. It makes me smile. It is good.