Perspective sometimes flows along smoothly and other times chinks and jumps like gears on a tank. We had that little click of perspective change this week with Morgan’s car.
Until recently, seeing Morgan’s car parked in the driveway was a comfort for us; a comfort with a few barbs to be truthful. I’d drive up and the reflexive lift,” Oh, Morgan is home” was nice, but too quickly followed by the reality that no, she is not and never will be here again. Even so, it was good to see Morgan’s car here for 9 months. It gave us a sense that things were where they should be.
These are the games you play with yourself. “Its OK – everything is in its right place, oh yeah, except your daughter, but not to worry. Every other thing is exactly where it should be.” It only took 9 months, 2 jumps, and 1 battery replacement for me to get it. All right, I can let go of this too.
It makes us sad, another piece of Morgan to let go of. Now we have an empty driveway to go with the empty bedroom upstairs. Rather than sit in that sorrow we have gifted Morgan’s car in a way that will lift and transform another.
Perhaps it is evidence of healing that we are able to tune in again to the wisdom of flow and be willing to relinquish things that have served their purpose. Are we supposed to extrapolate from this some insight about Morgan and the meaning her life? She came; she lived, and left after she had fulfilled her purpose? A wedge to open us up and unravel our tangles and then knit us back together into new tighter more complex and intricate cloth?