Last night Chelsea beat Benfico 2-1 in the UEFA Europa League Final. I watched it from a hotel room in Utrecht and the game was played just a short train ride away in Amsterdam Arena, where just 10 months ago Mack and I watched Ajax beat the Celtics 4-0.
Needless to say, I got choked up, quite a bit. Not because I was rooting for Chelsea to win (I was, Torres scored the first goal and I know that Mack would have worn his Torres Chelsea kit to school today were he still with us). Traveling and being away from family is never easy, but being alone when you are grieving makes things even worse. Most of the time business trips are just that, business and they keep you busy. This trip has been no exception. It is when you are back in the hotel room that the loneliness of it all comes crashing down.
Mack was and always will be a part of me (and of each and every family member and friend). I am a bit soppy anyway and even before he died I would miss E and the kids terribly when I traveled. Now travel just exacerbates the pain of being apart from him. I think the times I have felt his absence most keenly is in gift shops. I would always get each child something from a trip, for Mack it was always a keychain and for Izzy usually a snow-globe (now it is hoodies). My first few trips this new year I could almost forget our loss. Then I would stand there looking at the rows and rows of keychains and think of which Mack would like…and then realize I don’t need to get him one (and then I would get one anyway).
If you are still reading this, thank you. If you are still reading, it means that you either care for us or are hurting yourself. I have tried not to put too much of my grieving on this site, on the other hand so many have expressed their gratitude for this sharing and at times I need to get out what I cannot keep in. I hope it is helpful to you, I know it is for me, so thank. But I try and have a point to my sharing as well.
In this case (and I feel this to be true most of the time) I am merely stating the obvious, but when we are apart from one we love, we need to also remember that they remain a part of us, no matter whether the distance is geographic or temporal. It is this painful paradox of mourning that I need to remember Mack, holding him, calling him to dinner, reading stories to him in bed, and this brings me so many tears, yet it also brings me closer to him, keeps him a part of me.
4 thoughts on “Being a/part”
“tikkun olam” — i am sure your boldness and openness in sharing your own grief, would bring not only healing to others, but solidarity. just wanted to say, i read these, and i appreciate these and your honesty in the struggle.
Thank you David. I appreciate the encouragement and support. (And I have enjoyed being with your father on this trip!)
Dean Brady – Dean Brady – your powerful, poignant reflections on “being a/part” reminded me of this passionate song and lyrics from Bruce Springsteen …
SAVE MY LOVE
Now there’s something coming through the air that softly reminds me
Tonight I’ll park out on the hill and wait until they find me
Here slipping through the ether, a voice is coming through
So keep me in your heart tonight and I’ll save my love for you
So turn up your radio and darling dial me in close
We’re riding on the airwaves and we’re traveling coast to coast
Over river and highway your voice comes clear and true
Though we’re far apart tonight, I’ll save my love for you
Hold me in your arms and our doubts won’t break us
If we open up our hearts, love won’t forsake us
Let’s let the music take us and carry us home
There’s a prayer coming through the air like a shot straight through my heart
Tearing open the evening sky, tearing me apart
Now I’ll ride that signal down the line till I’m home again with you
So turn up your radio and I’ll save my love for you
Turn up your radio and I’ll save my love for you
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xfho9r_save-my-love-bruce-springsteen-new-video-2010_music#.UZZFVhyx5Rw
“Then I would stand there looking at the rows and rows of keychains and think of which Mack would like…and then realize I don’t need to get him one (and then I would get one anyway).” — I still do this for my son, only in his case, it’s die-cast cars. I discovered this morning that one of his brothers had opened a few of them (I keep them sealed in their packages, though I know full well he’ll never take them out). I was angry at first, but then a sense of gratitude took over when I realized how terrific it is that the littlest brother gets so much enjoyment from the same things as his big brother. Anyway, that was a long-winded way of saying I understand.