We did not lose each other. I can still look at, hold, argue with my partner. He is still there. That brings a second of relief and comfort, but then that other realization follows quickly: our dear friend, whom we love wholly, did lose his.
We can't imagine.
Then we sigh and unload the dishwasher and feed the dog.
I worked 60 hours last week. The families on my caseload right now are facing circumstances beyond most of our imaginations, and my in home sessions have been wrapping up at 10pm. I'm exhausted, but we are doing the work.
We are doing the work and we are getting to where we need to be. Remember my post on resistance?
Shoes and I have finally scheduled our honeymoon, and on the days I am missing my friend, worrying about her surviving husband, holding anchors of gentleness and perspective taking in intense family conflict at work, I think about my favorite spots in where we are headed; the north shore, the coffee gallery, the temple. I am there already.
We hold on because a part of us is already there.
It is already better.
We are already healing.