For the last few years, there have been only a handful of times, where I have found myself in these bizarre moments since my first husband died that feels like a shift in the universe. I don’t know if there is a crossing of energies, or a moment of intersection between our souls, but it demands my full attention when it occurs. It’s as if I️ could reach out into the air in front of me in that short moment and he’d reach back.
Oddly, I’m thinking of a family member as I️ write this that I’ve lost all touch with. In the past, she would have told me I was simply creating this in my mind, because I wanted to feel him, not because I actually was feeling him. She’d tell me I️ wasn’t dealing with the reality of death, and she feels sorry for me. Her words tend to revisit me when these moments occur for me. I️ often think to myself, “maybe you’re right, his death has made me slightly crazy. My thoughts are morbid and hopeful and completely out of control, and beautiful all at the same time? I am intrigued by death, I️ want to know everything about it.” I’d also think to myself, “Woman, if only you would feel what I do in these brief moments, you’d feel the burden of this loss lift for just a little bit, and those hard feelings that have ripped at your heart for all these years would unclench their claws for just a moment, and maybe, just maybe you could breathe again and see him in the faces of those around you, maybe. You could sit with him for a bit, maybe.”
This past week I was in New Orleans for a conference for work. When I wasn’t in class, I found myself alone a few times in the big city with the opportunity to venture out. Since losing my first husband, I have found that alone time is quite enjoyable. I️ have come to like myself, even enjoy my own company over the past few years, so a quiet meal alone with a book and the chance to people watch is awesome. New Orleans is a wonderful place to do this. The last time I was in New Orleans was back in 2011 with John. We had gone for a 4 day vacation to enjoy the food, music and culture. John was a huge jazz fanatic so this was a very important destination for us. We probably walked 30 miles that weekend, exploring every historic landmark, enjoying so many oysters, and venturing into the cool music venues on Frenchmen Street (where the locals go) to listen to music late into the night.
This week, on my way to see my cousin play (she’s a badass jazz musician living in New Orleans with her badass husband who is also a musician), I found myself in one of these rare bizarre moments. I suddenly stopped mid-walk and looked to my left and there sat the Old Coffee Pot Restaurant. This quaint little restaurant that I immediately recognized was the first place I️ had a delicious gumbo dinner with John years ago on our first night exploring this crazy wild city. I️ stared right at the small table by the window I once sat with him, young and ready for a night of music. I️ could almost see us sitting there. Across from this was a 3-generation family that started playing “When the Saints Come Marching In”. There were people everywhere passing all around me, cars and horses, it was mayhem. I just stood there and closed my eyes.
Through all the chaos, I swear if I could see everything we can’t see, I’d see John standing right in front of me, merely separated by a small hazy wall of some other universe, acknowledging with me that yes he remembers, the food was delicious and the music was lovely. I stood there in the street smiling and crying and laughing and then suddenly dancing. I felt grateful for the memory and the brief pause that allowed me to stand at attention with him. These moments do not happen often, but when they do they are lovely.
The word “season” came to mind as I stood in the street. I am in such a beautiful season of my life right now. I got married to my best friend Tristan just a few weeks ago. I️ have to say, it’s the most fun I’ve ever had at a wedding. To have all of your favorite people in one place, dancing and laughing, gave me a burst of energy that left a permanent smile on my face all weekend. I️ love Tristan so much I️ feel that my heart could explode. I’m convinced I have the world’s best husband. I feel connected to him whether we’re in the same room or thousands of miles away. He is my person and I am his, in this world and the next. I believe the energy between us is unique yet so similar to the connection I️ have to John, and for all of that I feel extremely grateful.
If you had told me 3 1/2 years ago that I’d find that kind of love again, I would have told you it was impossible. It took a while for me to believe it, to visualize it, and to eventually speak to it. It happened for me though, this season arrived and took over, there was no stopping it, it drew me in and captured my heart.
When my sister told me that she was pregnant, I️ felt once again as if my heart may explode. My family has been so excited for the arrival of this new little human for the past 9 months. I watched the birth of my niece just a week ago. I was so proud of my sister in that moment. She worked so hard to bring Eloise into this world safely, and is already proving to be world’s best mom. I thought of John as I watched Eloise take her first breath, and let out her first cry. I️ wondered if he met her before she came to Lizzie and Luke. I️ wondered if he helped her get here, helped her decide on her purpose. I wondered if he helped Tristan and I️ find each other and come into this new season of joy.
Do those that go before us help us walk through each season? Do they function as these spiritual guardians to those of us still here, helping us move through each season? The cry of my beautiful niece felt like angels singing above, it was the most precious sound. A new season for my sister and brother, a new season for this small human. I thought about how death and birth all almost feel the same to me now, just a continuous cycle of purpose and experience, joy and pain, all leading us to the source that I think put us here.
We’re all just in between seasons. My hard seasons are not over, there will be pain again, loss again, unexpected abrupt endings to things that go too soon, disappointments. To think I’ve served my time is dangerous and not real. What I do know is I will be better prepared for the next season that challenges my heart. I’ll walk through it with more grace, more patience, and a genuine belief that it all just intertwines, and brings us closer to the energy of God. I don’t think we’re meant to stay in those hard seasons forever. We should not wear them like a black shawl. I think it’s ok to step into something new, while always respecting those past seasons and what they’ve taught us.
I find John on the rivers, the streets of New Orleans with beautiful jazz music, in the cry of a new born baby, in the kind eyes of my sweet husband Tristan, in the expressions of his older brother and the sound of his laugh, to the morning tunes of Steeley Dan, in the smell of a burning fire. I find him everywhere. He reminds me of these seasons I’ve walked through, the joyous one I am currently in, and the vision of seasons to come both joyful and painful. It’s all intertwined, and I’m grateful to be present in it, to stand at attention, to hear and see God through the absolute chaos. I believe when we can step into these brief moments and allow ourselves to stand still, we can shed off the weight of the world we live in, even if it’s brief, and connect to those that left before us, those that are on their way here. These moments helps prepare us for our next season and to step into it.
