And Sometimes You Cry
I recently learned of my beloved's passing (3/30/11) and have been struggling with the grieving process. In my search for some solace and perhaps an appropriate way to mourn the loss of my loved one, I stumbled upon your site.
This person, (we'll use his initials D.A.M.) was my first love and, we both later agreed, soulmate. We met in 1987, fell in love, and parted almost a year later. Unbeknownst to me at the time, our love had blossomed and resulted in our beautiful son.
I was a very young mother who braved the pregnancy with my parents' help and guidance. D.A.M. was a father in absentia, and except for two brief meetings during the boy's infancy, D.A.M. did not know his son. At the time, it fazed me little since I had a strong support system, surrounded by family and friends. I moved on, as I was confident he did the same.
21 years later, we reconnected (finding each other via the world wide web) and spent the better part of a year sharing stories, laughing on the phone, and exchanging insights - discussing anything and everything under the sun.
Although these exchanges were sometimes laced with apologies for past misgivings and discussions involved each other's shortcomings, I've never felt so alive & vibrant; D.A.M. had the gift of imparting knowledge in the most humble and unassuming way. Mind you, these exchanges and interactions were all shared electronically across 5000+ miles and involved very little, if any, visual aid - all under the premise of previously agreed upon rules of engagement.
We were scheduled to meet in 2009, but unfortunate events did not allow the fateful reunion or perhaps the Fates had something else in store.
During our telephone exchanges and sharing sessions, which we sometimes called "therapy", we discussed the piece titled "Reason, Season, or Lifetime". I was emailed the piece by a friend and I was curious to find out a male's (his) perspective; although I knew he'd probably take the easiest way out, and say what the other person would like to hear. Naturally, we asked each other what we considered ourselves to be, in relation to each other. He replied, "Lifetime, of course".
Inwardly, I doubted his response at the time, especially since I knew that he had a tendency to avoid goodbyes and formal endings. 20 something years ago, our separation and going our separate ways was, quite simply, walking away: no explanations, lengthy farewells, or a Dear John letter.
Today as I reflect on his words, "Lifetime...", I'm awed at the fact that once again, in his most humble and unassuming way, he's taught me a life lesson: cherish each moment you're given with a loved one - whether it's a summer of firsts, a 3 hour late night telephone conversation, listening to the other's ramblings and laughing together at the seemingly mundane and ordinary or a year spent reconnecting with a person who'll forever hold a special place in your heart, who, in the seemingly brief encounters we shared, has given so much joy, love and caring to last a lifetime.
My heart pains each time I remember him, his voice, wit, and school boy charm. He was twenty years my senior, but my soulmate nonetheless. Although at the time, I was ill equipped to grasp the enormity of the relationship, I'm deeply saddened each time a memory of him catches me by surprise. I've never imagined how one individual, in a short span of time, can leave such a huge imprint on one's being.
Sometimes it hurts to breathe when I think of him. I know he's in a better place though. When he and I are reborn into this world, I hope and pray that we are allowed to finally be together, to share, grow, and love as we were meant to be... Soulmates.
To quote a verse I once read, but don't know the author, "Many people will walk in and out of your life, but it's the True Friends who'll leave footprints in your heart".
Written in 2011 by Violet Smith
Please share a comment about this article with us: Email Us