Part 297: →Husband Journey: Don’t Know Why
© Susan Kalish
I walked in the first heat of Spring on an April Sunday afternoon,
in circles, knowing where I was going, but not,
fearing I would trip and fall on small rocks, trekking up and down grade.
“Find me, steer me,” I said, knowing that when alive he had GPS in his head
as he was proud of saying.
My inner compass was tattered and muddled by emotion: make a right, no,
make a left, go up there on that rise.
Lost.
I hadn’t come here before this, I couldn’t go before, easy as that.
I don’t know why,
but, I knew why:
the reality factor.
I was pulled to the slight rise, founded in the 1800s, the place he chose,
and it looked unrecognizable from that day when people stood by it in the barren cold
near a huge hole that had been opened in the earth,
like a silent, screaming mouth.
There was the big tree,
there was the white angel,
there was Mr. Lee and Mr. Chong,
tombstone bookends sheltering him
below the sand and grit,
too-soon to be landscaped and green:
It had only been a little more than three months.
His name was printed on a blinding white,
laminated, small, shiny card standing, propped erect proudly
via a wire brace, tagging the site. Competing with stone.
For now.
And then, a small, black and orange butterfly, possibly an American Copper,
unlike the butterflies we would raise from eggs on parsley and dill in our garden,
flew,
to me;
then hovered over the sand.
When I looked down it appeared to be illuminated against the brightness of reflective gravel.
It stayed at that place, with me, fluttered and flew
for what seemed like a long time
in butterfly-moments and then
disappeared.
Of all the sites with their stone markers, many weathered beyond
legibility, it came to me, to that place, the one I felt guided to.
I don’t know why I was so afraid:
I knew what I would eventually find—
I had lived in the shadow of death for more than three years, watching
the unfathomable decline of body, of mind, then spirit.
Now devoured by the earth.
Downhill, the flowering trees had just passed their peak
and there was a faint smell
of warm grass. I heard a butterfly saying:
“it’s OK, I’m alright now. Go, enjoy your lunch.”
The Cerebral Jukebox is playing
Don’t Know Why
Norah Jones
📌The series starts here:
Part 1: And The Band Played On … a mother’s life, a daughter’s journey
(becomes the husband journey)
The previous post is here
The next post is here
Gail O’Doherty
Beautifully, poetically expressed!❤️🙏❤️
So beautiful and heartfelt.
Walking this journey – you are not alone- and yet no one walks in the same footsteps as you.
Love you
Mara
Barbara B.
This is so beautiful Susan. The butterfly on angels wings
Rina & Ron
It was so beautiful that afternoon. Although we missed him physically I felt him the whole time. I knew you would find him…he was watching the whole time probably getting a kick out of hearing us say he is here..no go there…wait I think he is by that tree….no we went too far…and then the butterfly!!!!
Darling Susan, your poetic words draw me in and make my heart pine. Loss is so hollow. I believe your butterfly encounter was a message and Robert truly wants you to live on well and in peace. I pray each day you can come closer to that place of renewed hope. You have been long suffering for such a long season. All who love you want brighter days with joy and happy memories for you. We love you Susan.
Wonderfully expressed Sooz. We are able to walk each step with you on this journey. Know you are loved.
God knows when you take; we do not always understand. Rob, like Rich, is no longer suffering & all his cognitive & mobility issues restored. We will always think of them & miss them.
Beautifully woven moments
So touching,
So heartfelt,
So beautifully expressed.
❤️
Jackie
Truly Beautiful. I think you read my inner heart as I walked those steps 6+ years ago and still do today. It’s easier now, but still hard.
Prayers and love always from me,
Joan
Beautifully written!
Oh Susan. I’m hoping we can come in for the unveiling and be with you. The man had a presence then and now. We love you. And that butterfly.
May you find comfort in knowing that Robert is watching over you with love.
Beautiful
Poignant
Messages
Butterflies
Angels
Love
You are loved.