“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”
― Kahlil Gibran
A friend posted this quote on her page today, it is the fourth anniversary of the death of her husband. The quote gave me pause, and the reality of the quote, the truth of it made me stop in my morning routine of checking in on emails and such.
I am well aware of the love in my life, and the fact I'm graced by so much, especially my best friend and husband, Martyn, who I met in my early forties. He is not a space filler, we are blessed with a relationship in which we share so many common desires-the love of nature, building gardens, being outside and working hard...we work hard and then we sit at night and relax, eat a good deal, sip hooch and enjoy discussing our plans fora new garden or building or land project. We laugh. We share details of the day. Those things are removed when a mate goes.
I have seen my friends and family lose their mates to old age, suicide, early sudden death, and cancer. Each time, through the thoughts of my compassion for them, the thought creeps in...how can it not...what would I do at that moment, that moment of separation no matter how my mate had died? What would I do to keep breathing at that very moment?
The people I mention above are walking examples of people that kept breathing, somehow.
Every day, I swear, there is not a day I don't reflect on the fact that I am here, with Martyn, and how different it would be if he wasn't here.
Can you prepare yourself for that moment you hear your mate has died? That exact moment? No. You can understand it will be gut wrenching, soul strangling stuff. You get that. But you go about the day or night just happy to have them there.
One can't dwell on it, then you would not be living. But I think when it happens, it will be like being turned upside down, and everything will look strange and disoriented, and scary. The sensations of the wind will feel different and my skin will be so sensitive I might have to stay inside for weeks.
That hour of separation will come. It is why I choose to live so out loud now with Martyn. And soak up our nights too.
Last night I wanted to capture the house and the beauty of M'Lady Apple in full bloom, and Little Apple nearby. I was swept up in a moment, of how perfect this moment in this time on this piece of land in this little house in this specific location with this exact person is.
