In the middle of the journey of my life
I found myself inside a dark forest, for
The right way I had completely lost.
Loss has visited me many times in life. Beloved family members that have passed on, the death of my first love, friends left behind in a myriad of moves, divorce severed my family and home. Terrible things all part of the journey that is my life. I’ve come to think of some of these losses as the very fiber of my being. If I hadn’t had those incredibly significant losses, I wouldn’t even be who I am today. Sometimes that makes me sad, wondering who I might have been, but most days that idea nearly scares the living daylights out of me. The idea of continuing in a way that simply wasn’t right for me, and the idea that I am right where I need to be right now.
There are other losses, on a much smaller scale, that I’m thinking about now. Like the loss of the letters I received when I was a little girl. Letters my grandpa wrote to me when my family moved away. Instead of writing those to me in his voice, his dog Scamper was the voice I read. How Scamper missed my laughter and following me around the garden while I helped Grandpa. Suffering from the loss of his first grandchild, he was. Birthday poems that Aunt Nita sent to mark each new year. She was traveling at the time, around the world. Too expensive to send a package. Too creative to buy an ordinary birthday card. Letters Grandma sent to encourage me, remind me, be a part of me.
Those letters survive only in my memory. Small things, to be sure compared to other losses. What I wouldn’t give to have them in a box or drawer to touch a part of them now.