4 years is such a short time. The length of a single presidential term, the traditional undergraduate program length, the average lifespan of a blue jay and a rainbow trout, the amount of time I’ve lived 9 times over in my life at this point… the amount of time Sara was in my life.
In those 4 years my life was completely and utterly changed. In another 4 years, I will have lived for 4 decades, and Sara was supposed to still be here with me when I hit that milestone, raising our child with me, all of us loving each other fiercely and proudly – a queer family living our life trying to help each other be our best selves, whatever that may look like each day.
Sara always said that she used magic to make me appear in her life. Shortly before she met me, she made a list of all the qualities she was looking for in a significant other; apparently I checked them all off. Sometimes, just fleeting moments here and there when I’m just so sad and feeling so lost, I wonder if I just dreamed Sara up – she was MY perfect person. She was here and then she was gone – we only had 4 turns of the wheel together, and now my life has a big hole in it.
Several times now, including on the train home tonight, I’ve found myself revisiting the facebook posts from right before and right after Sara died. It always makes me cry. At first I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to do that, if I knew it would just make me cry and bring me back to those scary uncertain days in the hospital, and the moment when I knew she was gone. But tonight I realized – it’s because here, I can see how she touched everyone else’s lives. I can validate that yes, she lived – not just in my head, but in the world. I see everyone else’s sorrow and pain and love and memories as they relate to her. That, in a strange way, helps to ground me (once I stop crying). It helps me know, with 100% certainty, that I’m not imagining the last 4 years like out of some bizarre horror/suspense movie.
Yesterday I posted about a seemingly odd thing that stirred up strong grief; I guess the theme of tonight’s post is a seemingly odd thing that in some way helps me move through and with my grief.
(Originally posted 12/18/2019 on Facebook)