Without

 

 

August 8, 2022

 Greetings from kaore he,

 All around us are the invisible moments that others carry, little ribbons of time or memories or meaningful days.  We carry our own precious things, held loosely so they won’t crease or be stained, but close so they won’t slip away.  We pass each other everywhere usually not knowing what we have in common, each cupping a butterfly in our palm, feeling it flutter.

 A few days ago, I woke thinking of a single word, which is how things arrive sometimes.  I didn’t recognize what the day was or why the word appeared until later.  It was as if I was passing myself, neither of us aware of what the other was holding.

 The word is ‘without’.

 In that morning I said the word so often it began to sound strange, thought about the blend of two words that we used to create it, and overthought it.  Then it came to me what day it was.

 I sought the definition, which wasn’t necessary but sometimes matters, found the answers we already know.  ‘Without’ means; the absence of, lacking, not with, none of, not accompanied by.  It is a word filled with missing, with need and ache. 

 It has been a year and a few days since my sister Leslie was led from where she has always been to where she will always be.  That moment created a little living ribbon for each of us to hold, to know, to remember.  The days between this and that have filled with other things but held this one thing; we are without.

 Each of us who felt that loss, the grief that is wed to loving someone, are changed now.  It is the human condition we share with everyone we pass in this existence.  We have all felt the loss of one we cared for as they exchanged one life for something else.  They are with us, and then they are not with us.  We are without. 

 Thankfully we have the language beyond one word so that we can feel the loss, the pain, and think of it beyond just that.  We can say those words to ourselves and the people near us who are without and feel the comfort of knowing and sharing the ache.  We feel the lack and somehow, we feel the presence.

 The Old English source of the word is withutan which means ‘on the outside’.  What is comforting to me is that the word allows for the absence, and also gives us the presence of the person…just there, outside.  Outside this air, this sunlight, this ache, and not gone, but merely outside, merely beyond the veneer between this place and that.

 In truth, it isn’t always the end of life that leaves us without, sometimes it can be other space, other separation that invites the ache, the loss.  Time or distance or too few words, some element that took the place of being with, and leaves us without.   We hold these ribbons too, sometimes clenching them too tightly, wanting to make it different, feeling the possibility.  Missing a friend or a loved one who is on the outside, still close but without.  Not every lack can be resolved, but there is hope, there is possible. 

 Grief has many lessons, not all are obvious, not all are welcome.  It also has a purpose, not always one we would choose to accept.

 Today and tomorrow we will pass by everyone and I hope we will see them again, and see them differently.  They hold these same fragile butterflies in their palms, these precious things that are so hard to keep perfect, and yet we each desperately need to.  We are in the same family as they.

 Everyone we miss, including my sister, is filled with color and sound, with laughter and song and wishing and good wishes and dreaming and the billion things they did that mattered, and we are more because of them.  When we can’t see them each day, we are given something else instead, to hold carefully in our hands, to be with them.

 Our lives are filled with experiences that shape us in subtle ways.  And among those rich days there are these invisible moments, these powerful wisps of life that we keep with us.  We remember and we love and we ache and we are never, ever without.

  

Hope this finds you with,

 

David

 

 

Copyright © 2022  David Smith