Not the Tremblin' Kind

01.04.07

To quote the lovely songstress Laura Cantrell, I am not the tremblin' kind, though in the past 6 weeks or so I can tell you that I have wavered more than once.

As time passes, things in some ways seem easier. But not so much that I can forget you are not here anymore.

I curse and kiss you every day - for loving me and leaving me. For not giving this mortal coil enough of a chance. For not having the strength to call out; for having the courage to override all other wills but your own and see that done.

At this point I see that the end of life is not the end of love nor conversely is the end of love the end of life. Two sides of the same coin: I still love you exactly as I did the day you died and I see that even though this mortal love has gone, as has your life with it, we are still here in some way and still surrounded by a kind of love.

I see that the greatest emptiness is not the one we feel inside, but the empty space that surrounds us without you. The vacuum that you left - sealed and un-openable. It can only ever be changed through transformation and displacement.

You may have departed, but there is a mountain for us to climb, a long and painful road to tread before we can ever talk of you without the tears surfacing and the questions nagging.

With every small amount of time that passes, we try to tremble less and stand firm in the affirmation of our love for you - and in keeping you alive in any way that we can.