It’s hard to
believe that January 2012 is shortly coming to an end. Since my last post in November the holidays
descended upon me quickly and before the blink of an eye, they seemed to have left
just as quickly as they arrived. Since
Jillian’s departure, holidays seem a bit different now. I often looked forward to them because it
gave me plenty of extra days to spend time with her. We would spend plenty of time
taking long walks, reading books, blowing bubbles, practicing riding her
tricycle and (our favorite) making videos together. I also felt excited knowing
that ‘Santa Claus’ would soon be dropping off presents and Jillian always
appreciated the sight of a brightly packaged DVD-shaped gift….she always seemed
to want to open those first. The entire Christmas
day was usually spent opening gifts – not necessarily because there was an excess
of them, but because for every gift opened, she would spend a good amount of time
playing with them. These are still some
of my most special memories.
I think that the
thing about holidays is that for the majority of people they are filled with
family gatherings and get-togethers. So,
for anyone who has experienced the loss of a loved one, they subtly (and often directly)
bring back that acute pain of loss because the absence of their loved one is
quite pronounced during this family-focused time. For the last few years I have experienced
this firsthand, but one of the strategies I have found to be helpful has been
to be sure to just get some time alone to relax and spend time thinking of
special memories of my daughter. What
often times begins as a difficult undertaking ends with me energized when I
recall what a unique and wonderful little girl I was privileged to be the
father of and the special life lessons I learned from her.
During the
holidays this year, I read Rachel
Remen’s book Kitchen Table Wisdom. Many of you are probably very familiar
with it, but as usual I seem to be behind the times on the best books to
read. Needless to say, this is an
amazing book, written by an amazing woman.
I have listed it on my resources.
A few of my favorite passages from the book are towards the end where
she says, “The most important questions don’t seem to have ready answers.” And then, “An unanswered question is a fine
traveling companion. It sharpens the eye
for the road.” What a powerful and poignant
set of statements. As I read these words
for the first time, I thought, “That is absolutely true in my experience.” Jillian’s
death has opened up this huge box of ‘what ifs, whys, and how comes’. As I have tried to ‘answer’ these questions
over the past few years, it seems like striving to do so has actually allowed
me to become sharper in my focus of what I am supposed to be doing while here
in this lifetime. Jillian has been a
huge part of my life, but it’s almost as if her death has opened up this different
life for me that I would never have been able to understand or harness without
her departure. (I pause now and think that
as I wrote that, Jillian has an ear-to-ear smile looking down on me and
thinking…he is finally starting to get it!)
I know it’s okay to be sad (and still cry) when I think about her not physically
being here anymore, but I realize more and more that living life as I am
destined to (shaped and framed by my past as well as the many unanswered
questions along the uncharted road) is what is most important. I
think often about what Rachel Remen says, “Everyday life is filled with
mystery. The things we know are only a
small part of the things we cannot know but can only glimpse. Yet even the smallest of glimpses can sustain
us.” Today I feel sustained knowing that
Jillian already knows what I will be learning in the coming years.
