Many, to one, to many – and so it goes.
Fragments – an empty wall, gaps in furnishings.
Bills less confusing (more expensive), under only one name.
Ownership – no more need to share. No longer compelled to “let it go.”
As I walk amongst these one-sided pieces of what was our community, my mind and heart look backward, and then ahead.
“The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.” And here He has done both. Our life together was both a receiving and a relinquishing. Our lives apart have been, will be, the same.
The memories, so deeply rooted in spirit and emotion, will be inexhaustible.
And how have we changed in these 17 months? How long before this endeavor receives the praise it’s due? Decades from now, will we not still be – even if only in a few, small ways – the results of our life together?
And yet there are no tears (or not many), no ceremonies of closure, no savoring the last days.
Life is partly to blame – it refuses to halt so we may properly celebrate. Travels here and yonder, a new baby, new jobs, old bills – so many reasons to simply keep living, passing the days unmarked in view of such change.
Disbelief, too, plays a role. How does one mentally prepare oneself – how to “brace” for this change? In reality, every moment of every day will be different, for my home has been altered. The scope of it is too large to comprehend.
So we just continue doing what we do – a tribute to life’s glorious mundaneness.
And yet, perhaps we have marked these last days: cherishing them inwardly, observing them intently, pondering them in their wonderfully strange, counter-cultural context. Silently we have celebrated these months in retrospect, marveling at the great love, the great difficulties, and the great stories they have harbored.
So as your taillights fade – as my mailbox is swallowed by rolling hills – we pray a Spirited farewell, and we give thanks for all that is, for all that has been, and for all that will be.