the world is grittier, harsher

deeper and more honest

there are no shadows to hide behind

no curtains to draw

nowhere to escape

Stark daylight reveals our flaws

our shortcomings

our vulnerability

It finds our cracks

our weaknesses

our fears

But nightfall consumes

it quiets

it stirs

it stops our thoughts

It brings forth our memories

our missed opportunities

our failures

Daylight reveals

it mocks, it accuses

it condemns and persecutes

it never rests

In the absence of the harsh daylight

we delve deeper into who we are

why we are here

what changes can we make

what changes must we make

to be comfortable in the hours of light

Every conversation I’ve had over the last week or more has stuck to me like tar. Each encounter has added another coat, another 5 pounds and each day I feel heavier and heavier. It hasn’t been any one conversation with any one person but rather each and every single one just seems to add to the weight and I feel so incredibly….well heavy.

I wish I knew why and how I get to this place and what I need to avoid in order to never return here, but not all things wise come with age. Could be a complete lack of sleep , could be I’m stretching myself too thin, not enough exercise, not eating right and some days not at all. Could be age related as my brain refuses to admit I’m not 20 anymore.

Could be from not having a vacation break from work over the last year and a half. Could be changing jobs was not my wisest move. Could be I’ve forgotten how to laugh. Could be I’m people overloaded.

It could simply be a culmination of so many different things that pin pointing the cause would take more years than I have left. Or maybe, just maybe, I need to find a quiet corner somewhere and stay there for a spell.

If was born to love being with people, clearly something went horribly wrong along the way.

Smiling like a big kid he stepped further into the shed until he stood almost dead center. It seemed to have been such a long winter but in reality it had only been a few months since he last stood in that very spot. Running his hand along the shelf that held his starter pots he smiled warmly as he planned out this years garden.

Stepping to the planting table he blew at the thin layer of dirt covering the surface. It was the same every year after he had turned over his gardens. Just before he left the shed he would take a small handful of dirt from the bucket on the floor and scatter it over the planting table, “for good luck” he told himself. As the dust slowly settled back down he noticed a clump of dirt in the back corner and thought “how clumsy of me” thinking he may have jinxed his end of season ritual. Picking up the clump of dirt he squeezed it gently between his finger and thumb until the dirt gave way. Inside the clump was a bulb that left him perplexed. How did he miss this bulb and where did it come from? Thinking back he was positive he had planted all the bulbs he had and could not recall planting any that looked like this one. Turning it over in his hand he was now certain that this was not like any of the bulbs he had planted.

Closing his fingers over it he felt warmth radiate from it defying the chill of the air on a cold March morning. Remembering the gap between the rose bushes he grabbed a trowel and headed for the rose garden, hopeful that the little bulb that didn’t belong would fill that hole. Careful not to scratch himself he dug a hole just big enough for the bulb and dropped it into the soil. Covering and tapping the dirt he wondered what it would grow up to be.

As the days passed by and the warmth of the sun increased his carefully planned gardens began to push up from their wintry sleep. Crocuses, daffodils and tulips first sprang forth poking from the ground like precious gems. Throughout his many gardens new life begin to sprout, his careful planning was bringing forth a spectacular show of colours. Glancing towards his most prized flowers, his rose gardens still had not begun to thrive. “They always like to wait until the rest have finished showing off” was his thought as he mounded the dirt up against their long stems. Digging and fertilizing he caught his jacket on a thorn and instantly thought of the odd bulb he had planted in amongst his roses. “Just as I thought, it was dud” he thought and went about mulching.

Throughout the Spring his gardens continued to bloom with many vibrant hues of colour and aromas that changed from sunrise to sunset. No two days were ever the same and by now even his roses were displaying the depth of their beauty. Covered over by mulch and the leaves from the roses the tiny bulb began its new life. In amongst the twist of thorns a slender stem was reaching skyward, tall, thin and unnoticed.

Spring slowly gave way to Summer as the gardens swam in colour and their sweet fragrance wafted throughout the yard. Every flower was now in full bloom and he smiled broadly at his creations. Looking at his roses he snorted at the singular stemmed flower, “didn’t fill out to be much at all”, as the roses around it swayed gently in the breeze. It looked quite out of place in amongst the thorns and roses.

As the days grew shorter and cooler air began to arrive the flowers slowly start to fade. One by one the cycle of their life has come full circle and another season had ended for them. The roses had also begun to fade as their blooms have all but gone. In amongst them the one lone bulb that produced one single flower had almost reached the end of its colourful life, of all the flowers it was the last to grow, the last to bloom.

Just before the cold winds came the gardener set about turning over his gardens. One by one all the bulbs are dug up, bagged and labeled to be stored away until next year. All the annuals have been dug up and the perennials have all been clipped back down. As he has done every year, he has left the roses to last to cut back and wrap against the harsh winter season. As he cuts back the roses closest to the single bulb he gives a sigh as he clips off the blossoms head, “I really hoped it would amount to so much more” he thought as the jaws of clippers met.

Falling to the ground the faded flower snapped as it hit the soil spilling from within it dozens of tiny seeds, gone unnoticed until next year.

Looking up from the floor I saw her, really saw her and I let my anger go. I took her hand, kissed her forehead and gazed upon her sleeping face, so quiet, so fragile. Smiling, I knew this time would be different, there would always be someone here with her for as long as she was here. So I settled down for my time with Elinore.

I prayed almost the exact same prayer for her that I’m sure still lingered in the room from my last visit here. But this time there was a subtle difference, this time there was total acceptance of what was to be. There was a comfortable sense of serenity in the room that most likely emanated from Elinore who was the very essence of serenity. Watching her sleep I slipped into a conversation with her that we had been having all the days we had been together.

Alone in her room with her I laughed at the goofy grin she often gave me, I growled at her for being right more times than she was wrong. I once again told her that I just didn’t get why we couldn’t weave the way I thought we should and heard her telling me “because that’s just not the way it gets done right”. I told her of the many ways she made me smile, the many ways she made me not only feel but know that she loved me. I told her about all the ways and reasons I loved her and I thanked her. I spent almost the entire time I had with her just talking to her, stealing moments from the time I should have been praying to say everything I wanted her to leave with. Because this time, in this room, it would be different.

Glancing at the clock I realized that my time was almost up and that I had left enough time to close the circle of this room. Kissing her again and letting go of her hand I sat heavily in the chair, scared to allow myself to feel, scared to say goodbye, scared to acknowledge the irony. From a different angle and in the dark the clock slipped back in time and for a brief moment Elinore became my mom.

In a room that had a tangible sense of serenity and peace I had the chance to say goodbye, again. As I walked back to my vehicle I left behind the emptiness that had haunted me for years. In just 2 short hours I had found healing of heart ache that just seemed to never end, like being eaten alive by butterflies. I could finally finish grieving a loss that I had never really begun. A parting gift from a friend that I had gone to be a gift to.

This was the legacy of Elinore. Every opportunity I ever had to help her always ended with me finding help I didn’t even know I needed. Elinore was one of those amazing people who made each moment a full circle moment leaving everyone including her feeling deeply, deeply blessed. I will never be able to be her but she always made me want to be

I hadn’t been here in over 3 years. I spent a life time of hours driving down that very road, parking in that very parking lot and walking into the very same building and somehow years had slipped by in a blink of time.

As I put my vehicle in park I took a moment to compose myself. I looked up through the sunroof and sat watching the lone visible star twinkle. I was trying to convince myself to relax, to live in the moment, to not go back in time and drag anything forward with me. Closing my eyes, taking a deep breath I began the prayer that I would repeat as often as I could before I reached her door. Before the visual memory of the last time I was here froze me in a time warp of fear, of tears of being too late.

Stepping around the back bumper I stopped suddenly as a tiny red fox sat unafraid or startled by my presence. I could  see it’s soft eyes, I could feel it’s lack of fear and my heart settled a bit more. This was a good sign I thought. God knows I can’t resist animals, He wouldn’t have put one in my path if time was that short, so I took the moment He presented me with and I stopped to enjoy His beauty.

Flash, 3 years ago it was another trip to sit with my mom, to wait, to pray, to hope, to let go.

As the fox walked away I began to make my way up to the hospital entrance. I intentionally parked as far away as I could to allow myself the opportunity to soak up the silence. I needed the time to pigeon hole my memories and to clear out my heart, to empty my head, to erase the heaviness of my day. Slowly walking I allowed myself to feel sorrow, to let go of my own wishes and accept His.

Reaching the front door I was relieved that nothing was the same, the entrance had been renovated beyond my memories and I felt some of the strain slip away. A quick check in with the security guard and I was on my way in completely unfamiliar surroundings until I reached the end of the hall. At the end of the hall was the end of the renovations and everything old, both in the building and my memories, became new and my head spun. Placing my foot on the first step down the staircase the memories began to return, the smells of old were refreshed, the feel of the banister was once again familiar and I left the staircase on auto pilot. I was walking in the same haze I had walked in for over a month, nothing registered, nothing was different, slowly I could feel myself draining with each step forward.

Walking into the ward I knew exactly where I was going. I didn’t need to look at the room numbers because I was going back to that very same room I had spent so much time in doing the exact same thing I was about to do, wait. When I reached her doorway every memory flooded over me, seeing her broke the dam that kept it all back and as I looked at her I saw someone else. The colour of her hair, the familiar hospital gown above the institutional white sheet, the lack of beeping equipment, the red tag and turned around flashcards, even the way she was laying, it was all exactly the same it had been years ago. My head exploded as memories and present time collided and I felt lost.

Stepping inside her room the memories started to fade away as the present day slowly became reality again. Someone was here with her, someone had been with her every minute that she was here and someone would be here with her for every moment that she was here with us. Knowing that made me smile and I slipped quietly into a chair for my turn to pray, to wait, to talk to, to thank and to wrap Elinore tightly in love while her path Home was being prepared.