My mother-in-law died “suddenly but not unexpectedly,” as my spouse has been putting it, a week ago today. Since the moment the phone rang at about 5 a.m. that Sunday morning, time has taken on an entirely new meaning. We’ve had no true control of time. We need to go to the bank and get cash before we travel…to bad, it’s Sunday. Our lawn was already an eyesore with our two riders both out of commission and hopes of getting them into the shop on Monday. Pity. We’ll be in a different time zone before the shop even opens. In a cruel twist of irony, Bob was beginning to settle on dates a few weeks out when he would drive out to Pennsylvania and visit his mom and dad for a couple of weeks. Again, time waits for no one.
Driving in a haze. Arriving in a haze. Visitations. Special fraternal ceremonies. A funeral. A burying. It all happened in a blur in the span of about 24 hours. Then there’s the day after. After the funeral. After most of the people have returned home or gotten back into their old routines. This is when it felt as if we were entering holy time – the time when we watched an 81-year-old man learn what it might mean to live a solo life after nearly 56 years of marriage. We hear slips of the tongue about wanting to hold off on deciding on travel or finalizing the grocery list until he can consult with his wife, and the almost immediate realization of what he’s said and the bashful chuckle. There's the beginnings of placing time in the categories of "before" and "after."
There’s a transition to going from two to one, like a different kind of a birth. There are the muffled cries of pain, the confusion, the chaos. Then there are the still moments where one can catch one’s breath and see a different kind of future. It won’t be the same as before, to be sure, but there is a future. New possibilities open up for getting out and about and seeing the countryside. Plane reservations are made. Amidst the dread of the last car pulling away and being finally alone within the four walls of home, there is possibility. Hope perseveres. Time takes on new meaning.
