I am not sure I will wish anyone a Happy New Year again. I think I might go with Better New Year! Our family's life path was altered this holiday season as we had to say goodbye to my husband's brother at the young age of 52. We were decorating the Christmas tree when David listened to our sobbing niece spurting news that her Dad was in the CCU and David needed to come...immediately. Never again would our lives be the same.
Unexpected death is not a joyful topic. Your mind and body maneuvers through so many emotions. You kind of feel like a compass that has lost its center - just spinning and spinning and spinning. People come and go. Messages are left to be read and listened to when you have the energy. The luster goes out of everything and you just pray the next moment in your life will enable you to laugh or give you strength to take the next step. You are numb, empty, drained, lost and grasping for any sense of perspective to make this part of your life bearable. And you lean and hope you do not fall flat on your face. And this free fall, this unknown, unchartered territory of your life is where you will find the small sprouts of joy pushing through the drudgery that has clouded your derailed journey. There was no discussion, no planning, no talk that this loss would happen in our life. But every time a person is born and every time you fall in love, you face the risk of feeling your heart break like a china plate on a concrete floor. But it is important to remember, you were lucky enough to let this person love you. And there is great joy in those treasured moments. These memories are the ones that get you through the devastation, the unbridled grief, the pretense of strength, the anger surges, the exhaustion and the realization that part of you is forever gone. But then you realize, it's just the physical part - the spiritual part, the emotion that lives deep in your heart and lives in a continual loop in your brain - is going to slowly and I mean, S-L-O-W-L-Y, heal your heart.
We are infants in the grief process but there have been snippets of joy surrounding my brother-in-law's family. As Anne Frank wrote, "...because in spite of everything, I still believe that people are really good at heart.”. So many blankets of comfort were thrown over the girls left behind. Random acts of kindness were delivered in bulk and many were left unsigned but with a full heart. Friends and family did not skip a beat huddling around a family trying to find the new normal, gently guiding and directing everyone on a new route. All the while, reminding them it's ok to be scared but you are safe with the people surrounding you. We are your impact bag.
The stories shared at the Memorial Service were poignant, emotional, and at times, down right belly laughing funny. Paul's high school friend and college roommate exposed nuances of Paul that made us giggle like school girls. All I can say to you is Paul enjoyed college very much. And it seems he followed that same sort of enthusiasm throughout his life: his love and pride for his wife and two daughters was uncontainable. He followed his East Carolina Pirates with an indescribable devotion - until they lost. The dance school his daughters delved into became a second family. A seemingly simple gathering soon became a blowout thanks to the encouragement and contagiousness caused by a family man who lived in Holly Springs.The stories shared all had a common theme: Paul was a passionate person who was taken from his family, his community, his friends while his candle was still burning incredibly bright. It's as if we are still looking at the wick with the orange ember, waiting and wondering if once again, it will flicker. Yet we all know the answer.
Paul left a mark on a lot of people. In time, people who are grieving his absence at the dinner table, on the phone, at reunions, in the office, around the neighborhood and at ECU tailgates will retell the stories we heard that dreary Saturday. They will discuss what Paul would have thought of the call on third and long. They will discuss his laugh, his strong opinions, his willingness to help and how proud he would be of his daughters' accomplishments. Yes, in a space of time no one can predict, the family fabric will reconstruct to a different fit and somehow, Paul will continue be the thread that hold so many together.
It's true, I cannot yet say Happy New Year but I can honestly wish you a Better New Year. I can pray that you find joy in the simple, every day tasks of life. I can hope you do not take kindness, friendship or generosity for granted, but you share these things with an open heart. And I can hope you continue to prove to the world that people are genuinely good - that random acts of kindness can be intentional and deliberate. And that love sometimes hurts, but love is also the ultimate healer. A friend of my in-laws sent a lovely note to the family with a passage from Wordsworth's Michael:
"There is a comfort in the strength of love;
'Twill make a thing endurable, which else
Would overset the brain, or break the heart."
Love is all around us, even in our hours of grief. It pokes and prods us, makes us cry and wail. Makes us shake and sometimes crumble. But yet love mends, tidies and cleans the wounds that pierced our heart until eventually, we will love our life, again. And somehow, things are truly - better.
"Where it's a First Down, Pirates!"
