Who Must I Become Now?
I created and shared this post on April 3, 2023, the day before my husband died suddenly and unexpectedly.
This is not what we had planned or expected. My husband, Edmond, was the healthiest man I knew. He was my partner in parenting and adventures. He was a beautiful father to our five children. He was an open hearted friend to many. He was a brilliant compassionate attorney who advocated for those who were vulnerable. He had planned on picking up our two youngest children from school on Tuesday, April 4, 2023. When he did not, I assumed he was tied up on a call, so I texted him when he did not answer to let him know not to worry, I would get the kids. When he still didn’t answer my calls or text asking if he was alright, we went to our office building. It was ablaze with emergency vehicles. EMS, a board he served on for perhaps a decade, was there—people we know and love—trying to revive him. The best I can determine is that we texted at 2:25pm to confirm the pick up plan, and at 3:25pm he walked out of the office to get our children and collapsed.
I am a grief and loss counselor, I know this path. This is not my first major loss, but it is certainly the most shocking and difficult. I am ever grateful to each of you who have allowed me to walk beside you on your grief journey. With a foot in both worlds, one in the liminal world of grief and the other firmly on the ground, I have learned from our exchanges more than I can possibly express. Now, in this moment, I have both feet in the liminal, in-between, treacherous terrain of grief and loss. I walk beside you fully. We grieve together our unique losses surrounded and held in the Womb of Support, the Greater Love and our Systems of Belonging.
I continue to live by my personal code: I will never ask another person to do what I have not done or am not willing to do again. So, I will take the next step. I am hearing the way through that we have shared in our work together, finding my way to presence when I am overcome by the precious past or the daunting future. I am feeling what comes up in my body, heart, soul, and mind. I am sobbing in the waves that overcome me. I am laughing and crying at memories that arise when we speak of sweet Edmond. I am doing this work with you. I have not left you, but I have joined you.
Social media is too much, too big of a room for me right now to take in all the beautiful comments and care. Texts are lovely and are coming in often and regularly. I appreciate deeply the outpouring of love and most of all the connection. I fear I have missed vital messages of support in both arenas, but rest assured I feel it all around. We know we are not alone, and we are so lonely without him. I do not want to do this life without him. So, to find a way through to respond and connect, I have decided to make writing and art my practice, my ritual action where I might meet Myth, God, Universe, perhaps myself in a way I did not know or certainly want to be possible. This blog is for now where I will share what feels sharable. It is also the place where I encourage anyone to share their stories or heartfelt messages so that they might be preserved for my children, particularly our two youngest who are 13 and 11, to read when they are ready to take in the aspects of their father they did not yet know. Please feel free post and share anything you feel needs to be heard or known here. I know many of you are grieving this loss too. Connection is also our way through.
Grieving is the integration of the loss of who I am becoming. Folding Edmond into who I am unfolding in this iteration of myself is how he and I will find our way back to each other. Oh, this is the most difficult and painful work, and I cannot live without a connection to him. I am grateful for the dreams and the signs. They are not the same as his touch, his voice, his scent, his Presence.
In the deepest gratitude for our family and community,
J.