As I prepare to go East with family, it's only me packing. I've been wanting to note that this grieving isn't all pain, it's only a small part and in an odd way almost a pain/pleasure. There is also an altered state kind of lightness and disorientation of time and place. I'm learning to appreciate this sense of groundless freedom (I have so much time! and so little obligation!) though at times I do still feel slightly nauseous from it. I am overwhelmed by the love folks are showing me, and I feel slightly drunk from it all.
I'm listening to the music we put together for Gil's visitation and weeping as I water plants and fix the chicken fencing. After days of busyness, it feels sort of good to be immersed in the pain of missing, missing, wanting him. I imagine getting to the point where the pain will be less intense and wonder if I'll miss it. I suspect I will since it makes me feel him so deeply. You know, I was with Gil more than a third of his life, and he was even more of mine. And I am so different than when he found me. But I'm a glutton; I want more! I love weeping to his music. Perhaps next winter I'll find the time to go through and listen to ALL of it, as he had started to do in that last month. Now THAT will be a wet day!
I hope to have the Gil Celebration full to bursting with all of his music, and if I can really channel the Miller I'll have burned copies for folks to take. He'd want me to, but I'm not sure I can without him
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2 comments:
Aha, yes. That's it... the sweetness and the gnawing pain... go seeking peace. You will find him there, my sister!
If you head to NY you know you always have a place to stay.
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