Carrying on

Well then, haven’t I just been the worst blogger ever this past week.  It’s for the best really.  My mind was a bit consumed with sadness – nothing else, it seems, would fit.  People I had known for years became “What’s-his-name” or “What’s-her-name”… you know, What’s-her-name; she’s friends with (snapping fingers) What’s-their-names.  And the tears!  By Saturday morning I was a total Mole Rat – fully clothed, mind you, but a Mole Rat all the same.  My eyes were so puffy I had to lift my brows to see.  It wasn’t pretty. 

Over the course of the week I did learn a few things.  For instance, never attempt to cut your bangs after you’ve bawled for a week straight.  Trust me on this.  Also, some people should never open their mouths during times of sorrow.  No, don’t speak … shhhh… no don’t … don’t speak.  I learned that you just can’t get away from it – you watch a movie and there’s something about death and dying, obits and memories; you do a Google search and there’s a picture Dix would have chosen for her Christmas card.  It’s everywhere. And I learned there are some men who will face sorrow head on.  They’ll call or come over.  They’ll say they are sorry and they know it’s hard.  They’ll offer a hug or maybe just sit there while the girls cry.  They don’t try to explain it away or make it better – though you know they want to.   I think these must be the strongest men of them all. 

I also learned that sometimes God grants a bit of mercy.  Ever since I found out about the accident I just wanted to know Dix was okay.  Sure, this seems to contradict my belief that she’s in a better place.  But the fact of the matter remains, I’m human.  I live in a world that is far from perfect; I can’t quite fathom that place of perfect peace.  So when I hear about a tragic accident, I can only think fear or pain – my mind can’t imagine it being gone, as if it never happened.  Try as I might, I could not get it out of my mind.  

But Thursday night, I had a dream …

I was suddenly standing in Dixi’s kitchen, and she was in her living room, looking around.  “Dix!”  I said, “What in the world?  They told us you had died.”  “Oh I did, honey,” she said, “but I’m okay.  This place, however is a mess!”  Then she said something about it being embarassing and other people shouldn’t have to deal with it.  “Oh Dix, all that matters is that you’re okay!”  I said.  “We’ll take care of the rest.”  She smiled and then she was gone.  All I remember after that is feeling total peace – almost happiness. 

So we will.  We’ll take care.  Like the British war poster, we’ll “stay calm and carry on.”  There will still be tears.  Are you kidding?  Can’t be helped.  There will still be prayers for those left behind.  But this week they’ll be mixed with those darn Christmas card stragglers – the baking of cookies, and wrapping of gifts – spending time with friends and family – celebrating my favorite time of the year.  After all, we have three days ’til Christmas Eve, my friends, three days!