There is Meaning

The end of May is already upon us -- hard to believe that I've been back in Florida five months already. I know for those of you up north, the winter lasted forever and you're ready for summer. I, however, dread the summer months here in hot, sticky Florida. But, I also know why I am here -- not only is this my "place" in the world, I will stay through the summer (rather than run away to the north as originally planned) because I don't want to be away from Allan, and I am reminded, once again, that I was in the right place at the right time one week ago today.


In this crazy world of loss, upheaval, and constancy, I make a conscious effort to slow down, feel the love around me, and let go of worry. This has been especially true over the last two weeks of heartache. Amazingly, I find myself still standing, and have witnessed another blessing.


May 8th, my Barney went to heaven. On May 13th, as Allan was getting on a plane to London for two weeks (ugh), I got a message from one of my oldest and dearest friends that sent chills through my body. Immediately, I was taken back to the first moments of finding Ken as I physically felt their pain with the news -- their 25 year old son was dead. A beautiful, talented, loving, young man with his whole life ahead of him, decided this world is too hard, and in a moment of angst, took a permanent step that would not just change his existence, but alter everyone who knew him and loved him, forever. The absolute worst pain a human can feel -- the loss of a child.


Once you experience loss to the depths of your soul, you are never the same person, ever again. It physically and emotionally changes you. Every minute of each day becomes different. When you open your eyes every morning, the hours in front of you hold different meaning. The only way to survive the heartache is with time, faith, and the love of others. I never wanted any of my loved ones to feel that kind of pain, yet I suppose we all do at one time or another. My heart is with them as they travel this terrifying journey, and I am reminded of Ken as they unite in their pain; the rawness of the "firsts." Ken's birthday is in four days, he would've been 48.


Which brings me to the blessing of last week. Thanks to Ken, once again, a friend of mine has been saved. Last summer, because of his death, my brother-in-law pursued a stress test and ended up having quadruple bypass surgery within weeks to save his life.


This time, my friend Michael was at our house working on the AC (even it doesn't want to work in this heat) and I shared the details of what happened to Ken, mentioning his stubbornness to not see a doctor when needed. Thanks to that conversation, Michael is now in the hospital, being catheterized this morning. He is also in his mid-forties. He had been feeling strange but was, in his own words, "being stubborn about it." I have no doubt, the chain of events of my being in Florida, the heat being too much for our old AC, and Michael having time to come by last Tuesday, spared another family heartache.


I am reminded, repeatedly, that Ken's death was not in vain. There have been a few other stories such as this where young men we know have gone for tests and have been diagnosed with heart disease, and are being treated accordingly.


Being the spiritual person that I am, I find meaning in the order of things -- I don't believe in mere coincidence. I do believe that each and every situation we find ourselves in serves a purpose, we just may not know it right away. This unique journey I've been on for the past 10 months has been full of loss, along with countless blessings. My intuition is heightened, my spirit is vulnerable, and I realize in every moment, there is meaning. 


To those who've gone before us, thank you for the love you bestowed on us, for the ways in which you've touched our lives, and thank you for the lessons you're still teaching us.


Go in Peace...