It is reunion season. This past weekend, it was my high school 25th reunion. For many reasons it didn’t work out for me to go. I enjoyed seeing photos of my classmates, and reading about the connections on Facebook.
Talking about the past few years still feels overwhelming to me. It is nice when I run into people who know about Hannah – then I don’t have to start from the beginning and comfort them, or worse yet, try to not talk about Hannah when I tell the story of “what’s been going on with me” since we last spoke. If the person with whom I’m talking doesn’t know about Hannah, either way, it is awkward.
I was able to make it to a beach party hosted by a couple that I’ve known forever. Many of the friends there I don’t see often, and a few I haven’t seen since my early years in college. It was wonderful to see them, and to reconnect on some of the funny, simple things of our earlier days. I love that you can transport back in time, and be that same, goofy 18-year-old that you were when you all started hanging out. I’m so glad to have been able to linger at the party, and for most of the folks to have known about our situation so that it wasn’t the center of conversation.
This week, I came across a song that makes me think of those old friends in my life. It’s by Canadian singer-songwriter Justin Hines. As I looked up the video for this song, I was amazed to see that Justin has a rare genetic condition – Larsen’s Syndrome. This is very different from Hannah’s, with a host of different symptoms, but I’m sure this young man has spent many weeks in Children’s Hospitals throughout his life and his parents supported him, feared for him and loved him just as we did our girl. I love seeing and hearing what is possible from such an inspirational guy.
The song’s lyrics connect to where we are in life – transitions, reconnections. Sweet Hannah passed away four months ago yesterday. I held her in my heart as we sat on the beautiful beach, and admired other families with their little gals. Hannah would be 20 months old now – and I see her in my mind, so full of life. I see her with wispy brown curls hanging down to her shoulders, and her laugh is full and clear. What might she have now, 8 or 10 teeth that show when she smiles, and the same high dimples in her cheeks as Wes? As I see babies her age, I feel transported to her. It is just recently that I am able to see baby girls and not feel that deep, aching in my heart…I can now be happy for the family, and I can connect with the baby and delight when they give me a response.
It was again a lovely sunset last night. These warm days, there are few hummingbirds near our home, but there are wonderful butterflies. Whenever I’m out walking, I often have a white one that comes close (I think they are actually moths, but they seem so much sweeter). I say a little hello while it darts around me, I get a reminder of our constant connection to nature, and I feel like I’ve had a brief visit from Hannah.
Wish You Well
In times like this
I start to ponder all the things we’ll miss
We can always reminisce
When you come back from the grey beyond
with moonlight in your hair
I will meet you where that dark road ends
and it won’t be long until we’re there
Once, once again
we’ll talk about way back when
Oh but until then, I wish you well
Oh, I wish you well