Through a Glass Darkly for May 8, 2008
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After my wife died — a year ago tomorrow — I began to notice little projects she never finished.
That brought back memories from losing my father and my Uncle Vincent.
My father had cartridge cases lined up like little soldiers to be reloaded in his shop.
Uncle Vincent left behind components he had gathered to make a solar water heater. He was always talking about some such idea.
After Laurie’s death, I spotted little jobs all over the house that she had wanted to complete. In her sewing room, thread was loaded in her machine, bits of cloth stacked and clothes waited to be hemmed. On her bedside table, books waited with markers in the middles. In the kitchen, I found recipes she had clipped, but never tried.
Sometimes the sight of those things threatened to yank a sob from my throat.
After all three of those deaths, the evidence of projects halted in progress made me sad. I thought about the last touch of things to which my loved ones intended to return. It seemed unfair that these wonderful people hadn’t had a chance to complete all of their projects — each a little unfinished dream.
At the time, I didn’t put those thoughts together with my own feelings of dashed plans. Most of my dreams had been tied to Laurie. Trips we had talked of taking together would never happen. Things we had discussed doing with the flower gardens no longer mustered my energy to pull out a spade. I couldn’t bear to turn on a television series that we had started watching together.
As with many people who grieve, depression lurked. On lonely evenings and weekends, it sometimes took over.
A few months after Laurie’s death, a talented grief counselor with Hospice of Baton Rouge gave me “an assignment.”
Rae Centanni told me to think of things I wanted to do and write them down.
She had suggested assignments a couple of times before. I always had nodded and not bothered to follow through. During that period, it hadn’t seemed that anything would help.
But, this time, she said she wanted to see my list when we talked again. Reluctantly I tried to come up with one.
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