Chapters with Missing Pages – Keeper of The Stories

Last night I was watching the sun go down on the back porch, just sitting with it all.  I had nothing else to do, nowhere to be, and just sat watching the sun go down.  In the stillness of that moment, I was reminded of my belief that life feels more like a train ride than anything else.  We get on, we start moving, and we really don’t know where the hell we are going or when we are getting off. 

We like to think we are in control of our lives, or even have a tiny ability to control the ride, but at the end of the day, we don’t.  I think that is the biggest missed opportunity in our lives, to get stuck thinking we do have some form or sort of control and operating under a false pretense the whole time. 

The universe spins on with a cosmic time clock, and it cares little about our brief time here as individuals.  Of course, the universe is using a cosmic clock that takes 13.8 billion years to spin around.  I find that perspective helpful, that we don’t matter in the grand scheme of things in relation to cosmic time.  I think that is a good thing for all of us to remember and ponder on every once in a while.

On our journey, I like to think of it as a train ride, we have people who join us on our ride, sharing a bit of the journey.  Some folks are only on for one stop, others a few stops, a precious few stay for years, and then there are those cherished few who ride along with us for decades.  Again, in the cosmic scheme of things, the odds of that number of cherished riders are always pretty small, I like to call them the one handers, because mostly you can count them on one hand.   The ones who when they call and need you, you go, period, and be with them. Like many did for me.

I also think each of us on our rides is playing out our own story, the story of our lives.  Or at least we are trying to play it out, the universe always has a say whether we like it or not.  So, at the end of the journey we have a book, full of chapters and hopefully full of adventures with all those who were on the train with us, regardless of how long. 

Our books hold our memories of those who rode with us, we are the keepers of all those memories.  We are also the keepers of our shared memories, as they are of ours.  When we lose someone, especially one of those one handers, you become the sole keeper of those shared experiences.  The first time that happened for me was when Alison Bodey died, I had known her since I was 4.  The next one was when Lyndon Boyer passed, I met him when I was 5 or 6. 

There are memories that I have that no one else has.  No one else knows them.  No one else knows the stories or the shared experiences.  I consider that a sacred honor to carry those, to reflect every once in while on those shared experiences.  To tell those stories to others can help me carry the weight of that responsibility.  Each of those for me, and there are others, was hard to pick up, they were heavy, and it is my honor to do that for them.

With Bride gone now, I feel an even larger responsibility to keep those memories alive.  I will start writing more about her on here, to be memorialized hopefully as long as the internet exists.  I feel like we had just gotten into our Midwest adventure chapter, it was just getting interesting, it hooked us.  And then all of the sudden, it stopped.  Not paused.  Not slowed. Stopped. 

A harsh reminder that I am not in control of any of this, no matter how much I think I am.  The rest of the pages in the chapter were ripped out, never to be read, experienced or shared with her.  Pages we didn’t even know we were going to love yet.  Actually, it feels like the rest of the pages in the book were ripped out, end of story.

But I know, the ride still goes on, the universe is not quite done with me yet, at least as long as my eyeballs keep popping open each day.  The universe has another chapter for me, even though I did not even get to finish the one I was in.    A chapter without my honey.  A chapter with no direction, no terrain maps, no weather reports, just the unknown.    I want those missing pages back damn it!

In many ways it is terrifying.  In many ways it is exciting.  In many ways I don’t want to take that first step or read that first page of this chapter.  In many ways, I cannot wait to take that step, to dive into the next chapter.  I don’t really know how to do either though, yet.  In the meantime, I wake up every day, write my three things down.  I keep taking steps, although not many feel like there is any forward momentum, yet.

Right now I am mad at the universe.  Mad that it does not care.  But maybe that is the deal, the cost of getting on the ride in the first place.  It was never going to care.  The clock keeps spinning, and I am still here, staring at a chapter I didn’t choose, wondering what the hell will come next.