Rock & Roll Heaven

Three days ago, I attended the funeral services of the husband of my good friend Peggy. Cliff had been fighting cancer for the last few years, so the Bunny and I had already started to mentally prepare for the day that he would lose that battle. Funny how things never happen the way you expect.

So there I am, sitting with about three hundred other people - friends, family, acquaintances - people whose lives Cliff had an impact on for his 51 years; he was a musician, and he and Peggy were very involved in their church so many of these people had interacted with him regularly. I listened to a few friends close to Cliff give his eulogy, each from his or her own perspective and experiences; it's interesting because they described a Cliff that was different from my own interaction with him. It makes sense, because I met Peggy first (years ago) so my strongest connection would be with her. But it made me wonder: when I die, what will the people that knew me throughout my life say about ME? It's fascinating because my gut tells me that their recollections would be very different than how I see myself. I guess that's okay... I don't understand what my friends see in me, truly (I think I am a big pain in the ass) - but I get regular positive feedback most of the time. I just try to not let it go to my head.

As I was watching Peggy, I remembered back to a year ago when I was in that position. The grief-stricken widow. She held it together well, looking so calm and at peace. But I know - I KNOW - the deception of it. The inner turmoil. I understand now why people would constantly tell me how "strong" I was. What can I say, I'm a good actress. But you know, the funeral isn't for the widow - it's for everybody else.

So, needless to say, I was blubbering the entire time. I was crying for Peggy... knowing that her world had just undergone this massive shift - not one of her making. This is where the whole "letting go of control" thing comes in. In school right now we are discussing how a person's ability to let go increases their "openness" to creativity. To change. To opportunity. But it's extremely difficult for human beings to do. Me included... although I do try to be aware of the hints the universe drops for me every so often.

The priest was off about one thing. In his homily he said, "Nothing changes - your life, your love, etc." That's not quite accurate. From my point of view, EVERYTHING changes. It is literally what I imagine surviving a nuclear war would be like. And then you go into survival mode. Survival mode lasts for a long time. Peggy lost her husband AND her best friend - a double-whammy. Not to say the Bunny and I weren't best friends - but I am fortunate enough to recognize that I have people in my life that know me as well - if not better - than he did. So I don't feel so alone, even now...

The love is still there, though. It HAS to evolve... the caterpillar becomes the cocoon becomes the butterfly. It must, or it's impossible to keep living. But it never goes away... I've said this in previous posts and I will repeat it here, because it's important: I will never stop loving my husband. And because I will not, it allows my heart and soul to recognize and be receptive to all of the love around me - where most people wouldn't imagine love exists. Love exists everywhere.

You just have to be open to it.