Shifting Moments

How quickly it still shifts from moment to moment.  Awaking Friday morning to a magnificent sunrise.  Contrasting greatly with the storm of the previous day.  Strolling in the sunshine along the rocky seashore. Chatting and laughing with a friend and her dog.  Grateful for the change of scenery and distractions.  Upon returning to the cottage, checking my computer.  Noticing a posting made minutes earlier.  A photo of Michael.  Standing beside the ocean, arms stretched out wide. Taken days before he died.  One I have seen before.  Now catching me completely off guard.   This scene a perfect match to the one I had just been experiencing.  A second uploaded image showing a necklace his aunt had created  for herself in his memory.   Incorporating a heart and a star.  This, my first glimpse of it.  Both pictures instantly transporting me from a sense of peace and lightness to one of heart piercing sadness. Tears falling.  Breathing through it.  Then moving on with the day. Enjoying an afternoon with more laughter and conversation.  A short drive and ferry ride later, arriving home with a sense of contentment. Noticing the stack of unopened mail.  Tearing open a large envelope addressed to me.  Reading the enclosed letter from one of Michael's and Kelly's high school teachers.  One who is also living in this community. Sharing her condolences, as well as some memories.  Resulting in further emotions to process.  More tears.  In both cases, greatly appreciating that others continue to think about him.  Making the effort to share that.   As difficult as it is being in the feelings these pictures and words evoke, I am thankful for the communication.  Helping me feel connected and supported.  This ongoing roller-coaster ride.

Roller-Coaster Ride

Saturday afternoon.  Feeling such contentment after a long walk on the back roads.  Preparing a lunch to enjoy on the beach.  Glancing out the window.  Seeing my husband hunched over the workbench below.  The scene before me causing my heart to leap up into my throat.  Saw in hand.  Two long, thin pieces of wood beside him.  Building a cross.  To commemorate the accident site.  The vulnerability of this moment hitting me hard.  Knowing a father never imagines this would ever be asked of him.  A spur of the moment decision for him to start this project now.  The concept of a memorial for that spot discussed but not finalized.  Together agreeing to explore options for a suitable plaque before continuing on.  A short time later, both able to savour our meal and the remainder of the day.  A wild and crazy roller-coaster ride indeed.