A couple of musings from August 16th, the anniversary that wasn't.
one
In 2012, I shattered, entire. As I built myself back over a summer, fall, and winter, I was never more open. The omens were everywhere, and that's when I learned the universe is tailored just for me, as it is for you.
Relatives who had passed on came to visit me in animal form. The animals were everywhere. There were notes scrawled on the sidewalks, and the walls. I had visions of the child I would one day mother. I had dreams where I traveled from this plane, I saw heaven.
Never again, have I experienced that kind of connection to the universe. Never again, have I been that earthed.
Maybe I didn't need it. Until now. "I could sure use an omen or two", I've been whispering to the cosmos.
But I know it requires just as much effort on my part.
I must not be cloudy.
I must pay attention.
I must know it when I see it.
The visit from my ancestors yesterday was one.
When you left me, I experienced a dream like those from five years ago. This time it was to be embraced by a real, and equal love. How different.
Today's omen came in the reminder that there are no coincidences, and time is magical.
A chance conversation with a stranger to give me all the right reminders, and to send me on my way...okay.
two
Today, I sat where we sat every year. I had to go to our spot, because where else would I go? Buried deep, or not so deep at all, was my hope to see you. To see you had taken the day off. To be here.
"Your last name is Wride?" Surely someone would say. "How funny, there is a man here with that same last name!"
I wanted to write you. "Please, as someone who was so recently your wife, and love, give me a moment off the record. Please, if there is any part of you, I don't care how small, who doubts this...meet me tonight. If somewhere in there, past ego, past pride, you feel you don't want this, this emotional, financial, mental, devastation of us, meet me. Meet me in the lobby of our spot. 6 pm. The time we said our vows three years ago today. I'll be waiting for you with a glass of champagne. And if you choose not to, please don't use this against me. Please disregard this, as someone who was so recently your wife, and love."
In my minds eye, he he comes. He walks in, wearing his suit. He doesn't want our destruction. He wants to come home. "Yes," I say. But I approach delicately. I ask we just try for a day, or a weekend. It's so fragile.
And that's where it stops. I can't see further. And I know I am not allowed to ask this of him, although this is my biggest wish.
Come home, my heart says. Come home.
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