The story and the miracle of Mom’s death, called “Believe”, is the first of this series of articles about my Journey to Spirit. Following her death in 1989, the very same year I learned about Robert’s infidelity, I returned home to silent repose in double grief.
I fell headlong into my studies and consumed a giant Biology text of over 500 gruelling pages in six weeks, memorizing, reading and re-reading until the words spilled out of me upon command.
Six weeks later, I knew he was home. I knew, not because he called, but because I could feel him; closer. I phoned his best friend, and sure enough, Robert was there. My heart started beating so fast as I heard his voice for the first time in nearly a year. “Why didn’t you call?” There was a long, empty pause before he answered. All he said was, “I’m going to marry her.” It would be the shortest conversation we ever had.
1989 still stacks up as the worst year of my life. I lost my mom, and now I lost my love. There wasn’t much else life could steal from me now.
That would be the last time we would speak for quite some time even though Robert would never fully leave my life. Every now and then he would call, invite me to coffee or dinner, on his way through town. On occasion he would even show up mysteriously when I really needed something. Robert would just happen by with whatever I needed at the time.
He would spend a mere six months of each year with his wife, whom he moved off of our island to a small town inland and a full two days from his new paradise, hundreds of miles north of me and off in a wilderness called Winter Harbour. I never asked him about her, he just told me she was sick. It didn’t matter anyway; Robert wasn’t with me. And after crying for seven years, and taking on a new partner more out of loneliness than love, a gentle silence finally began to settle into my heart. Each time I saw Robert, I noticed the veil growing thicker and thicker and at one point I could barely even see the man I had once loved more than life itself.
His last visit occurred in 2005 when he dropped by one day, again out of the blue. He seemed quieter, and more distant. He told me he wanted to sell his property in Winter Harbour because he was ‘going to retire’. He invited me to visit, expenses paid, so I could see his place before he sold it. It was an endearing invitation, but I had to say no because my life just wouldn’t allow him in at the time. To this day, I still wonder what it would have been like to be back in the wilderness with him had I dared.
Fast forward to August 2006, and to the death of a childhood friend named Brian. I grew up with Brian and his family living across the alley from them for eighteen years. I babysat Brian and his brother and the adults spent many hours partying and neighbouring over the years. Brian, I was told, had been in a car accident and was hooked up to life support. When life support had been finally turned off by his 18 year-old daughter, I started crying.
I had no idea how come Brian’s death was affecting me so deeply. He was a great person and a long-lost friend but I hadn’t seen Brian in over twenty years. Still, the tears kept falling and my heart was grieving in a very painful way. I wondered if I was connecting his death to my mother’s. That must be it, I thought. I made my way to the funeral with my sister, and I cried off and on the whole way. “I just don’t know what’s going on. I can’t stop,” I told her. At the funeral on September 1st, my heart was feeling broken and pained like never before. My grief had continued to grow and lasted about five days.
Eventually I returned to my life and put Brian’s tragedy behind me. The following February I received a manila envelope in the mail. It was addressed to me personally in an unfamiliar hand. When I opened it, I found an 8 ½ x11” photo of Robert on his boat. I wondered what on earth he was doing sending me a picture of himself. Had he finally lost it, or what? I turned the photo over looking for more clues and found some more writing.
“I know you and Robert had a very special relationship, and I thought you might like this picture. Robert was scheduled for open heart surgery in November of last year, but he didn’t make it. He died August 27th in Winter Harbour. His ashes will be scattered there in June. Elizabeth”
My memory bounced back to August 2006, and I immediately went to the obits. Brian’ accident happened August 25th and he died 2 days later on August 27th. My soul knew that Robert was gone, just as it had known when he was near. Now, it was done: the grief made sense. Soon all the rest would too.
….to be continued
Photo Credits
Robert by Faye Thornton – All Rights Reserved
All other photos @ 123rf Stock Photos
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