|from my art journal, 6.22.16 (acrylic paint, ink, stabilo pencil, and Word Photo app)|
The quotation is from King Lear.
The weight of this sad time we must obey,
Speak what feel, not what we ought to say.
- William Shakespeare - King Lear
This past Sunday was emotionally difficult. It was Father's Day and my son at the very tender age of 17 no longer has his dad. A month after Devon turned 17, Rob died. I worry about how I am ever going to fill the immense void that Rob's death has caused in our son's life. I walked through Monday largely as if I was hung over, reclaimed a bit more of myself by Tuesday morning, and felt good by Tuesday afternoon. What I want to say here though is less about the pain that punctuated the last few days and more about the resiliency that frames both Dev's life and my own.
Yesterday, we went to Steven's Institute so Devon could meet with a few professors. He reports that the meeting went well and he said that he learned that being able to program in several languages and building his own computers may not be as common a set of skills as he first thought. After his meeting we ate dinner at a local Cuban restaurant. The meal was fun. Having time with Devon to just talk and joke and eat good food and have no dishes to clean up ended well a good day. I thought of Rob, missed him, and knew that he would have approved of the day and would have been proud of both of us.
C. S. Lewis describes grief as being like "a long valley, a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape." Some days, like holidays, are a terror. Most days have some pocket of sadness, as well as visions of possibilities. A range of emotions inform my days as I awaken from the nightmare of Rob's illness and death.
As we were driving home from Hoboken, Devon said to me that he is once again becoming interested in creating projects for himself.
"It's been so long since I wanted to stay up to 3 a.m. to figure out solutions for a problem or to frame a project. Now I do again. I'm filled with an energy I thought I had lost," Devon tells me.
Each of us is healing. Before us are possibilities to name.