Loosie Goosie!

Was he still hovering about the house at home, the essence of himself, and were I there would I perceive his present?  I fought off the mighty yearning to go in search of him, where he was.  For surely he was looking for me, too.  We were ill at ease, always, when apart.  But where are the pathways? ~ Pearl Buck

Friday morning, I was in the garage for my daily ritual of ... I'm not quite sure what this ritual is all about anymore.  It is my time to sit with my cup of java and my first cigarette to either journal, meditate or simply stare at Bill's oversize pictures!  Remember people, this is MY sandbox!  I get to have all of his things in there despite what the "do's and don'ts" of grieving books have to say.

I digress - oh yes, I was in the garage on Friday morning and was intent on staring Bill down.  I sometimes find myself doing this and I stare with all my mind, heart and soul wishing that somehow by being attentive to his staring back, he will come through the door or will at the very least drop something on my head to tell me that he is still with me, that I am somehow not "seeing" him.  After all, you read about experiences of lost ones somehow getting a message to those they left behind - so why not me?  I know I have sensed his presence a couple of times since his death but these experiences have been associated mostly with his mother's care and her death.  So why not for me?  Yup, I was pouting!

Just as I finally broke my stare - oh my, a staring contest with a picture - I started losing hope of having a good day when I heard it!  The morning was quiet, more quiet than usual and I heard the cry of a lone goose flying over.  Not a flock, but a lone goose.  No sweeter music have I ever heard.  My heart filled with joy and excitement because this always brought renewed happiness to Bill - Spring!

By late morning, I began to doubt what I had felt in that earlier moment for my enthusiasm about this "sign" was met with guarded "that's nice" or other such comments.  By the time I was leaving the building to come home for lunch, I was pretty much back to my morning pouting!  Dang Bill!  Why could you not have sent me a burning bush so that I knew for sure?  Well, he did not disappoint me, for as I opened that door and stepped into the warm sunlight, I was greeted by the chorus of a whole flock of geese!

I was giddy as a school girl!  It no longer mattered to me that people might think that it was my own projection.  Somehow for me, this was an assurance of continuing life.  It was comforting and I was grateful for this "sign".  My grief was somehow eased by my imagination - this same imagination God gave me.