This was a super early morning for us as we awoke to a 4:30am alarm for a 5:00am departure to her 5:30am volleyball practice. While Gia was getting ready, I popped on to Instagram to find the picture above posted by a musician I’ve been following who I very much admire and consider a friend. His name is Angel, he’s a pirate of sorts, and an interesting character to say the least. His “Diary Of An Outlaw” and “The Diary Of My Perfection” were meant to cosmically collide, as more so than anything he too is a recent widow who seems to be hell bent on rising above his past and meeting each day of the rest of his life with a headstrong lust for spreading Light and Love into the darkness. Every one of his posts has resonated with me deeply.
His post this day hit me like bricks, as I had just spent an enchanted slumber with my husband conveying a message to me in the MOST surreal way. It was him, I just know it! I could smell his skin, sense his touch, and feel his breathe on my neck. And while I won’t go into detail, because believe it or not there are still so many things I keep tucked inside the most private places of my heart, what I will say is that he was shadowing me during a move. By the end of the dream we were tightly embraced and I asked him “that most important question”. I didn’t hear his voice, as he never said a word, but indeed he answered by grabbing my hand and squeezing it:
I know where you are. I believe it in my heart. But I just need to hear you say it. Am I right? Are you There now? WILL I SEE YOU AGAIN SOMEDAY?
His reply? “One squeeze for yes” as requested!
As this first year without him has all but flown by I’ve made absolute peace with his suicide. The heartbreaking pain of his many tragic truths was so far beyond sobering it still reduces me to tears when I think of it, and trust me when I tell you, he too remembered everything! I’ve said it before and will say it again; Unless you’ve born the cross of seeing a person dying out loud in such an egregious way, you couldn’t possibly understand the magnitude of relief you feel upon the release of their mortal shackles. He held on for dear life as long as he possibly could until the day he died, but when the end of his darkness finally settled in, Fate delivered the last, cruel blow.
…but I’ve digressed … AGAIN …
Let’s go back to how my morning with Gia started. We backed out of the garage to find ourselves greeted by a bright orange moon on fire and ethereal setting in the field that meets the end of our driveway. We were in such deep tangent it was alarming, but comforting just the same. The intrinsic conversation that began tapped directly into our like understandings of “all of this” far beyond our simply dimensioned minds have yet to fathom. “She knows what I know” … “I know what she knows” … and that is all EITHER of us needs to know! It’s just … POWERFUL! Not to mention the fact that the first song that cued up when the engine started was “Remember Everything“. That meant something! Exactly what? I wasn’t sure. But sufficed to say that neither of us can listen to it now without being ever so painfully reminded of everything we remember about not just our own lives, but Zack’s and Christian’s as well.
But here’s where things get really interesting …
After I dropped her off and headed back home, “that other song” I love to hate so much found it’s way to my speakers (which of course was no mystery since it’s from the same album as “Remember Everything”) …
The Tragic Truth.
Wait! What just happened? It didn’t make me cry this time! Instead, I smiled peacefully as I rolled on down the road with my gaze fixed hard into the sky from which I heard his voice serenading me with those tragically truthful words:
It’s the demons I’ve created for myself … the Tragic Truth … it’s hard for me to understand myself, so it has to be hard as hell for you.
All I can tell you is that my intersection with the Cosmos this morning was EVERYTHING to me. Even as I write this I’m smiling again, because while on the surface it may appear that the demons that devoured him won, nothing could be further from the truth.
The rare few of us who knew him best and were honored to both love and be loved by him know a “truth” that’s beautiful: He’s Home now! I just know it. No more heartache. No more sorrow. No more pain. No more tears. No more longing for the mother, father, brothers and sister who abandoned the “trash can boy”.