Today I am grateful
that my Love Lawrence (Larry)
makes his presence known to me.
I love storms. He loved storms. We love storms. We would lie in bed during storms, windows open, curtains blowing, and listen to the majesty of nature. The electricity was palpable. When he was healthy, there might have been more activity than just laying in bed.
Last night a dear sister friend (since childhood) and I were talking. She is a nurse and one who knows what I am thinking before I say it. She can read my eyes, mind, and emotions. Knows my entire life.
But last night was drill deep into my soul night. We talked about Larry’s final seven months in his physical body. My disappointments, and his, when I called people and asked them to come- and they didn’t. The people who were there by our side. His excruciating pain and suffering. My pain on the soul level and how I knew that he would probably never be able to come home. The brutal medical stuff of necrosis, calciphylaxis, dialysis, and the sheer exhausting process of caring for a loved one who is ill.
We talked about the possibility of PTSD for people like us who work in healthcare and have also cared for family members who were ill.
We were just real.
Had a good, cathartic, cry.
I was sitting in the couch watching a video on my phone of a friend named Ana reading a chapter 8 of “Becoming Radiant” and when she was talking about our loved ones being all around us and healing,
the light on the stand
I thought, ‘all the power went out it’s storming.’ I looked up and the TV was still on (it’s muted). I touch the light and it comes back on. So I say “hi Larry” out loud and the light flickers – then gets brighter.
Peace and a light in my storm.
351 XO Lisa
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