...early Friday morning. C'mon, a little grace here, will ya? Bentley and I are in Chicago for some consulting after returning from the shore recently...which gives me pause (or should I say paws?) about this morning's post and comment about the comments I have gotten about the last segment. It amazes me how much discussing the death of someone close opens doors to dialog with people in more ways than a lot of other topics. Sort of the ambiguity as to why it is that we struggle to get people together for family reunions and similar events for celebration...and at a funeral there is standing room only...except for one person. I apologize for anyone who is reacting right now that that is a morose image, but I hope it gets across the ambiguity of it all. So, what does this have to do with the "shore" image? Well, it strikes me that in books and stories you here of people coming back "to shore" after a long voyage. Coming "in from the cold." Returning from "wandering in the desert." And the like. The logical image might be "leaving from shore" to go out to sea, on the journey, etc. But, what does it look like to come back "from" the shore? The death of someone you love, losing them in the physical sense, struggling with understanding, redefining "normal" from this point forward and the other associated "dying" ambiguities is like standing on the edge of the shore. You look out to the horizon which seems so far away, wondering what you would find when you got there and realizing that you never really "get there" to that point out there. It is not the end, but a continuation.
Death of my father? Death of my marriage? End? Beginning? Continuation?
Coming back from the shoreline, oh yes I forgot... after coming back out of the water.
Write on.
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