Building a Bridge

I went to the cemetery today. It is the first time in a while. When I visit Don's grave I don't often talk to him outside of an initial greeting, but today I was compelled to do so for some reason. Snow was still on the ground and it was cold, but I felt warmth drawing me to his memorial. Approaching his stone, I spoke the familiar greeting, "Don, how are things at home?" I felt somewhat of a smile on my face as I thought of his heavenly home and the encompassing peace he must have.

I spent some time catching him up about the boys and how amazing they are doing—how I know he is proud of them beyond measure. I chatted about his mother and brothers and told him Chad was excited to visit them in Arizona.

I then began to discuss the "chapter two" I will begin to write in a few days. I expressed that I felt honored that God had chosen to bless me twice in my lifetime. I told him about Kent—how different this relationship is from the one we had, but how perfect he is for me at this stage in my life. I expressed my concern with instantly becoming a mother of six. I knew he would find that, in itself, humorous. There was no awkwardness in the discourse—like it was a natural flow of conversation. Through my tears of grief and joy, I assured him that he would always be the boy's father and the legacy that he has left them will sustain them for the rest of their lives. I promised to uphold his memory. I guaranteed him that Kent had no desire to be a replacement father, but felt honored to simply be a strong male influence in the boy's lives (I think Kent realizes he has a lot to live up to).

I am not sure anyone (except perhaps my widow friends and even they might think this a little weird) can understand how important this task was for me to complete today. I wasn't asking Don permission or needing any kind of assurance. I was simply building a bridge from my "chapter one" to my "chapter two". Not, in any terms, closing one to open the other, but fully recognizing and acknowledging the importance of both in my "life story".

About that time, a gentle breeze began to blow onto my face. The feeling gave me goose bumps. It's gentleness reminded me of that quality in Don. Was this Don's way of giving me his blessing? I stood, in silence, beside the grave for what seemed like hours, but in reality was mere minutes. As I turned to walk away, I experienced an immense calmness in my spirit--- the feeling that my "Chapter two" had been sanctioned. I left with immeasurable peace. The bridge was complete.

This I know for sure.