June 27, 2012
Papa and I are with the crew at the beach. It is particularly hard on Dan to be here without you as his special wave jumping water buddy. This was always a magical time of bonding for you and Papa. Laughing and splashing in the surf; both gleeful and childlike in those shared salty, sandy moments. So fleeting that joy. The membrane to earlier times and to the magnitude of our loss is more permeable in this place. We feel the empty space more; even seek it out; like you search the arch of the mandible with your tongue probing vacant space for the missing tooth.
Morgan we miss you like crazy; always will, but we are trying so hard to create something positive and grow, even in our sorrow. The gash, the wound has begun to granulate but the protection of scar has not yet formed. We still feel pretty raw much of the time. Folks say, “I don’t know how you can survive this!” Well here it is, my insight on how to cope with catastrophic loss: “I’ll have my breakdown just as soon as I get this load of towels out of the dryer – repeat as necessary”.
Morgan, so we soldier on, holding fast to the belief; like you clung tightly to your float in this turbulent North Carolina ocean, that the sorrow and pain of loss is mitigated by the promise of rebirth and transformation. The inevitable and ever malignant death is actually the means which allows spirit to rise. We are open to transformation, knowing that love abides.
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