No matter what we experience in our lives, there is always an after. After is a funny thing, isn't it? You never know what it's going to hold, but you know, as surely as you know there is blood in your veins, that there will be an after.
I'm in the after. Admittedly, there are things that I am still tackling. There are challenges that still exist in my life - a lot of them, but there are also things that I have already passed. They are over. I am in the after. The thing I find funny about this markation of the term "after" is that often I have found myself to dwell inside it and also within the before - within the event that marked the beginning of after.
The thing that has probably been the most difficult for me to leave in the before and engage the after is losing my dad. This is obvious. Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows this to be true about me. My dad was not perfect, by any stretch, but there were some amazing things that he communicated to me while I shared hours with him in this world. When his heart stopped and his lungs ceased to breath, when he lost an more ability to speak words to me, I was left.....wandering. I have felt so lost. There were many tasks that I completed and some very effectively, but that sense of belonging and security was gone.
After my dad died, as I have said, there were moments that I wanted so badly to engage my grief, and I was disallowed. There was that moment on the hill near the place into which they were going to lower my dad's coffin that I wanted so badly for someone to give me permission to grief - to fall apart. It became faintly clear to me at that time that I would not be afforded that opportunity. There were incidents later that reinforced that to me. It was very difficult at first to receive the communication that I would not be allowed to grieve, but after a short period, I resigned myself to the fact that I was not....so I did not. I entered the parts of my soul that were occupied by my memories with and of my dad, and, with fast work, I boarded up the windows. I covered up the furnishings with canvases so thick that even I would not be able to distinguish what lay underneath the coverings. I locked the door......but I kept the key. I never could bear to throw it away.
I have walked past that room so, so many times since the day I imprisoned the contents, but every time I would reach into the pocket of my heart to grab the key, I never did more than hold it in my hand only to release it after the words played again in my mind to "SHHH!.....We've got to go......I've got to get some sleep".
But things have been changing for me, haven't they? I have been pouring truth into my soul, and, just like a heavy rain, it has washed away the shroud of dust and shined the leaves of the vines that cloaked themselves around the windows of this room. The truth that beauty exists within that room and the truth that I am allowed to enjoy that beauty and mourn the pieces of the things that are broken within it is shining through those windows.
Today......I put the key into the lock, and I turned it.....and I opened the door. It's funny how this room of my soul has changed after all this time. I recognize some of the things here as things that dwelt there originally, but surprisingly, I recognize things that I have acquired since the day that I locked the door.
See, the thing is that I never stopped adding things to my soul - even to that part. Though my dad's life on earth ended, mine did not. The truth is that you cannot successfully and truly separate a room in your soul. Somehow, though I was not aware, I was placing new things into that room.....because it is love. That room is my ability to love. I have added new people to that room. There are representations of my son and my youngest daughter. There are tokens of friends. There are framings of moments of love that were given to me by others. So strange to see these things here but so wonderful. It seems a shame to me now to see all the dust and the canvas drapings - the pictures turned around the wrong way and the unlit lamps.....so I won't leave them that way, but here is the very strange thing. I cannot disrobe these inhabitants of my room alone. I have to bring that girl on the hill with me. Actually, she will be the one that has to alter the room. I will watch, but I have to go get her.
The weird thing with pain is that it halts us. When we are victimized by trauma, if we are not allowed to escape it and move past it, that version of ourselves stays there. She is still there...on the hill...in the cold February air. She needs to be rescued. Poor girl. Poor hurting girl so alone (I bet you have your own girl or boy). The only person who can do that rescuing is me. The way I am going to provide that to her, the way I'm going to go to her, and I'm going to let you watch. I'm going to speak to her. I'm going to go to her.....right now.
Sarah......honey.......he's gone. They're going to put his body in that hole. I know you know that. I know it hurts because I am you, and I miss him every day. I want you to know something. A very selfish heart is going to do everything they can to quiet you. That heart will hurt you very much. They will make you feel so alone and so imprisoned. You are going to be very afraid. You will spend years being afraid. You are going to feel like you are totally alone.
I'm going to tell you something. You will never be alone again.....because I will be there. Any time that hateful heart tries to steal from you the time you need to be sad, I will be there, and I will tell that mean heart no. I will send them away. I will protect you.....and I will hold you...and we will both cry together. From now on, any time you want to cry, then I want you to cry. I will be there with you. Any time you want to ask questions about Dad, I will let you. I will let you ask any questions you want of any person that you want. I will let you remember the beauty too. In fact.......come with me....I have something to show you.
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