Katherine’s Photo Journal: WIND
WIND
It’s over. All the rites of death and rituals of mourning. They’re supposed to give you closure but they don’t. The visitations are the worst. The parade of family, friends and the just plain, morbidly curious with their practiced condolences. I know what they were muttering under their breath. How could she? He was such a good man. How could she?
They don’t know. How many times I tried to reach out to him. They don’t know. How the loneliness blows over you like a bitter wind. They don’t know. How that quiet desperation builds and builds until you can’t carry it anymore.
They don’t know what it’s like to look down into the casket and die a thousand deaths yourself because you know you are responsible. What it’s like to have a part of yourself ripped away and taken to a place you can’t reach. I wanted my freedom but what I have now is a prison cell without walls.
I was shocked that Nicholas came to the funeral. Thank God he had the sense not to speak to me. But his eyes found mine as I was walking from the grave back to the hearse. The wind stirred for a few seconds just then and I felt his desire brush against me like a breath. I took it in and cradled it for a moment before I looked away.
Nicholas, I just don’t know. What it is that we stumbled upon together. I just don’t know. If it was the start of something or just ships passing. I just don’t know. When I will know what you need to know about us.
Nicholas, I feel a wind coming that will bring blistering lightening and crashing thunder. Somewhere in the midst of that windstorm understanding may come. But in this moment, and the cascade of moments between now and then, I have to walk with his spirit until it chooses to see me free.
I know you may not still be waiting for me when that happens. You have your own winds to heed. Sometimes our life is not our own. We go where we are called to go not knowing if the door will be open to let us come back. The greatest regret is often the choice we didn’t have the courage to make.
