Ten Years- Love Is A Song That Never Ends
My dear Ben,
It’s been ten years. Ten years. A decade. That seems like a significant milestone.
I still love and miss you to infinity and beyond. It still hurts.
And it’s confusing. I don’t know where I am supposed to be. I know that grief does not go away. It ebbs and flows. I coexist with it. We respect each other. Grief knows I leave room for its rough moments and grief lets me console myself with smiles for the happy memories. Like last year, the quote that resonates the most on this day is “Love is a Song That Never Ends” from Bambi.
Summers have become easier, though this one had the looming “ten year mark.” I visited human friends and my buddies at the Georgia Aquarium. As I’ve explained, The Aquarium is particularly meaningful for me because it was the first thing I did on my own that was all mine and new.
The encounter programs remain my true joy. Again, I was able to interact with my dear sea otter Gibson (now 6) and baby beluga Shila (now 5). I got my picture with Gibson this year, and even with Mara, who was rescued with Gibson and is quite a little character. I love to get to know them even just a little bit. Doing these encounters showed me that I could create a new life and new joy and it was okay. I have always loved animals, and definitely think about my dad when I’m there because he instilled that love in me, but interacting with the animals brings me so much solace. They give me peace.
The penguins have become difficult because you and I loved them so much, and the dolphin show will always make me cry because of how much you loved those shows. I have my moments with you, and watch them in your honor, but it’s not the same for me and that gives me a kind of empty feeling. I still hate how much life you were cheated of, and that we were cheated of. But, I like to think that you come with me, at least in my heart, though I do often feel your presence. It’s that coexistence with grief. The memories that conjure melancholy combine with the memories that conjure hope and also let me know that you’re still part my life.
I do like to take a train ride on special dates like today. You so loved the train. I decided to return to a place that we visited. I chose Cold Spring, NY. We had a nice time there and I just wanted an easy, quiet time. Turns out that was fortuitous planning, since I am just getting over a bout of pneumonia and was not up for more than some strolling.
Ordinarily, I take the train home on the date, but today I traveled to Cold Spring. I thought I would enjoy walking in our footsteps, but I felt very alone. Having dinner alone was lonely. I suppose that on the train I get lost in my thoughts, but traveling itself is solitary so it does not feel painful. Lesson learned. I am proud of myself for testing myself and not reprimanding myself for any feelings I have.
I have a lovely room in an inn that overlooks the Hudson River. After dinner, I sat on my balcony watching a bunch of ducklings. You would love this.
I was looking forward to writing this post and taking time to think about the past ten years. Did I learn? Did I grow? What was I supposed to accomplish, if anything?
I have learned a lot about myself in these years. The realization that being a caregiver was so much of who I am has propelled a lot of my actions. It seems perfect that this tenth year is the year that my caregiving book, based on this blog, will be published. I hope that you would be pleased with the book – I think you would be. It is honest, and it is also hopeful. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be an author, and that dream is coming true. You are a part of it, as are my mom, dad, grandma and Eleanor. That feels good, though I do wish you were all here.
I think you would be pleased that I was able to reconnect with people who were important to us as you battled ALS, because I want to include them in the formal Acknowledgments. After ten years, it felt good to be able to let people know that their kindness remains an important memory. Everyone remembers you well, and that touches me deeply.
I have learned to rely on myself more. I will never really be a confident person, but I find that I look inward for more answers these days. And, I’m less apologetic about that. I know who my people are, who my real Ohana is.
I have been working on my picture book manuscripts. I know you would be shaking your head if you saw how many books I have added to the bookshelves and piles on the floor. But, caregiving is making its way into those stories, too.
There are more smiles than tears when I look at our Disney photos, though my heart will always ache for all that ALS stole.
When I think of a decade it sounds like such a long time, yet I don’t know how long it feels. I feel like I have been missing you forever, yet the memories are still so vivid that it does not feel like a long time. I don’t know. I do want you to know that not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. Whether our inside jokes, things that remind me of you, things that I do because you would want me to, music I listen to in a different way because of you, you are always in my heart. Grief and I will continue our journey with you, and I will always hold dear that “Love Is A Song That Never Ends.”
I hope that you are running, eating your favorite foods, playing music, and being a grim grinning ghost.
I love you,
Abby