Written: October 3, 2016
When you lose a loved one, there is a weird phenomena of time that happens. It’s been 10 months since Raouf left, and on Friday, my dear friend, Kalyn Catlett called me as I was leaving work and asked me what I was doing for dinner. I told her I was going to Walmart (not exactly a dinner destination, but it probably would have involved picking up something edible along with some other items I had in mind to buy). She said, how about we go to Chilli’s. So, as I was driving out of the parking garage at work, I said, “OK, I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
This began the short reflective drive from the library down Broad Street to Chilli’s, and I realized: “I don’t have to call anyone to say I’m going out to eat with Kalyn, basically because there was no one to call!” Ouch, that hurt when it came through my brain. But that is what happens to us who have lost someone or multiple someones, as in my case. Not only did I not have Raouf to call, but I didn’t even have my dad to call. That’s it…I’m on my own.
I didn’t cry or get upset, but I did bring it up with Kalyn as we were eating. She too had a similar experience that same day, as she was sitting in a meeting and started looking at her phone, as she had done for so many years to instinctively check on her mother. Yet, she too, since having just recently lost her mother, realized she didn’t have to look at her phone anymore.
So, what do we do with this new “freedom”? I’m not sure yet, we’re still working through what it means and how we feel about it. I will say that as I sat there with one of my oldest and dearest friends, I was thankful…thankful that she could just call me and I could just call her — God is good.
Grace and Peace