Last night I dreamed a beautiful, terrible dream.
We were together - Tony, Jaal, Lev, Liana and I.
Lev got to see Liana, Liana got to meet him, finally, Jaal and Lev and Tony and I were hanging out like normal.
Lev was back to visit for several days. He even spent the night at John and Jeana's which was next door.
It was so real, so nice to have him back.
Then I woke up. Cuddled between Tony and Liana.
Disoriented, relieved, full and empty.
Today I bring in the memory, the experience, the love, and try not to focus on the emptiness and the loss that accompanies it.
I have taught Liana the word "frazzled."
November 12, 2015
November 8, 2015
in Monteverde again
People have often asked what it's like being back in Monteverde without Lev.
It was really nice being back with Jaal, reconnecting with old friends, visiting places that had such pleasant memories. Knowing that whatever gathering you are in, wherever you are, there are some people around you that knew Lev, that knew us as the family we were before.
That is nice. It feels very centering. Looking at Liana walking down the stairs of our house, and remembering the video we have of Lev sliding down the banister makes sense. It connects her with a part of us she wouldn't have understood.
But, coming back is hard. It's nice, and it's comforting. But it's hard. Liana is here, speaking Spanish, at the CEC, enjoying nature, and that is wonderful. I can walk out my door and hike for an hour an a half without seeing another person. Or I could go the other direction and be sure to run into people I know and would enjoy talking to.
But, now Jaal isn't here. And Lev isn't here.
We have Menna, (a good friend's daughter), who is fifteen and is studying abroad here, and visits us on the weekend, and that's nice - having a teenager around. Someone who knew and loved Lev, too.
But, it's not Lev. And we can't ever move anywhere where Lev will be. We can't move closer. He won't go to college. He won't learn to drive. He won't do anything.
And yet our life goes on, and on. And nice things happen. And we have brunch with friends, and we enjoy ourselves.
But then there is this underlying anxiety, asking, why, why are you here and what are you doing?
Being here is being closer to Lev, which is nice. Time, or location, or both has made me able to finally think of memories of Lev in a positive light. I can remember funny things, happy things, without the "but" that used to always be with the memory.
But, it is hard. Here is hard, there is hard.
Transitions are hard, whether it's going on vacation and coming home or not. It is hard for life to keep going on and his not being able to.
And then there is our little ray of sunshine. She makes it okay, and she makes being here make sense. She is thriving. And we are okay.
It was really nice being back with Jaal, reconnecting with old friends, visiting places that had such pleasant memories. Knowing that whatever gathering you are in, wherever you are, there are some people around you that knew Lev, that knew us as the family we were before.
That is nice. It feels very centering. Looking at Liana walking down the stairs of our house, and remembering the video we have of Lev sliding down the banister makes sense. It connects her with a part of us she wouldn't have understood.
But, coming back is hard. It's nice, and it's comforting. But it's hard. Liana is here, speaking Spanish, at the CEC, enjoying nature, and that is wonderful. I can walk out my door and hike for an hour an a half without seeing another person. Or I could go the other direction and be sure to run into people I know and would enjoy talking to.
But, now Jaal isn't here. And Lev isn't here.
We have Menna, (a good friend's daughter), who is fifteen and is studying abroad here, and visits us on the weekend, and that's nice - having a teenager around. Someone who knew and loved Lev, too.
But, it's not Lev. And we can't ever move anywhere where Lev will be. We can't move closer. He won't go to college. He won't learn to drive. He won't do anything.
And yet our life goes on, and on. And nice things happen. And we have brunch with friends, and we enjoy ourselves.
But then there is this underlying anxiety, asking, why, why are you here and what are you doing?
Being here is being closer to Lev, which is nice. Time, or location, or both has made me able to finally think of memories of Lev in a positive light. I can remember funny things, happy things, without the "but" that used to always be with the memory.
But, it is hard. Here is hard, there is hard.
Transitions are hard, whether it's going on vacation and coming home or not. It is hard for life to keep going on and his not being able to.
And then there is our little ray of sunshine. She makes it okay, and she makes being here make sense. She is thriving. And we are okay.
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