Morning Still Breaks (part 2) - Maximus Vaccarino

I haven't been able to write down many thoughts over the past couple of weeks. Max's passing occurred and it shook me. To my core. It gave me pause. It gives me pause still. That coupled with my beautiful daughters going back to college and I have crawled back inside myself for a bit. Sometimes that happens. I don't view it as a negative thing actually. It's not worrisome. I view it as my way of relying on myself to figure out my feelings. I think it actually is a sign of strength. I need to allow myself to feel the feelings. Like, that's okay. It doesn't mean I am miserable and depressed. It means I am working through some things and that is actually good. Better than the opposite.

I often don't sleep that well but I do dream. Vivid dreams. Last night's dream has stayed with me even if I only remember bits and pieces. Snapshots. I am outside. It is a beautiful setting. Warm, not just because of the season but also because I am surrounded by love. I look in different directions and I see people nearby and at a close distance enjoying themselves. Mostly I see family and a few friends. I turn around and my dad is standing there. Smiling. My dad. We talk. We laugh. It feels so good. I look to my other side and my grandmother is sitting on a black metal bench. At one point my dad, my Momoo and my daughter are sitting on a bench chatting. I take some pictures. We are all smiling, taking in this beautiful simple moment. Snapshot.  I don't know how to explain the setting except to say that it just feels right. Comfortable. 

Then...

I realize, finally, this can't be right. This scene isn't possible. I mean, it is happening of course, but my version isn't possible. I stop and look around. Snapshot. I am still at this event. Outdoors. In this beautiful setting. I go to my uncle. He has been a second father, and I whisper, "This is going to sound really odd but dad passed away right? Like, he's no longer here."  He looks at me with gentle eyes and says yes, he did. He died in October." I look at him, I nod knowingly and laugh it off. "I know, I know. I just had a bizarre moment. I'm good." 

I walk away from him feeling incredibly filled with emotion. Snapshot. I find someone. I don't remember who it was in my dream but when they say, "What's good?", I confide about what I have just experienced. I know it seems impossible but I feel validated because “I have proof. I have photographs." I scramble to pull up the photos on my phone. "Look. Here." Except, the bench with its seats filled earlier, are empty. I slide to the next picture and it's the same thing. Empty. They are gone. Just the photograph, no people in it. And then I wake up.  

Crazy dream, right? When I briefly woke up in the middle of the night I remember saying to myself - don't forget this dream. I scrambled to remember each detail before I felt my mind drift off. I knew it was important. Maybe it was because it felt so amazing to see my father smiling a genuine, present smile. Maybe I loved linking arms with my Momoo who has had such an incredible impact on my life to this day. Maybe I loved feeling the sense of community in a garden filled with light, trees and flowers. I’d like to think Max was there too smiling Max’s beautiful smile.

And. And. And.  

Maybe I needed to realize that even though there is loss, deep loss, and life continues, it doesn't mean we lose them. The loved ones that have left our world are still nearby, along with our current lives. They are inside and alongside us. They are inside and alongside me. They live with me, in my heart, in my memory and are a part of me. No matter what happens next in my life, they remain present and affect me, us. They have to. There is purpose in their being here and there has to be purpose after they have left. They are present and that is comforting. 

Understanding this makes the loss feel a little less sharp, cutting. Understanding this provides a bit of perspective and it gives life a little more meaning. Maybe I needed this to test the air again. Crawl back outside for a minute. Feel the sun on my face, even briefly. Loss is hard. So fucking hard. It comes in many forms and everyone feels it differently. But like all of life's moments, we need to live them to their fullest. We need to feel them, find strength and beauty in them and take the next step, bird by bird.

Time to put on Lay My Love by Brian Eno and John Cale on repeat and let's get cooking. 

Lay My Love - Spotify

Lay My Love - Apple Music

Martha's Vineyard is my special place. It is one of the places in the world where I am able to experience a bliss I haven't found in many other places though I have come close a couple of times in Europe. My sister in law and I often share recipes (though her talent runs circles around me). We have very similar taste (literally) and will often order the same dishes at restaurants. So this meal - summer in a bowl - came from a hidden gem of a website. I substituted the steak for shrimp but shit, I really loved this. 

Sirloin Tip Steak with Summer Tomato-Fresh Corn Dressing, Feta, and Arugula

Choose kindness. Every gesture counts. Peace and love always.

-Amy