Dearest Rachel –
It’s been three years now.
You’d think I would know how to deal with these anniversaries by now, but I don’t. And I wonder if I ever will.
At this point, it’s gotten to where I’m treating the moment as if it were a second New Year’s, a time to reflect on the past year and whether I’ve grown or otherwise… I hesitate to say improved, because that always seems to suggest that it’s possible for my life to be better than when we were together – it seems like an insult to your memory. To be sure, it could be argued that I’m still trying to dig my way out of the trough that your departure put me in, like a Arctic explorer trapped in a fissure that suddenly opened up beneath him. For all I know, there may still be a long way to go before I even reach the daylight I once walked in before. An improvement over my worst moment casts no shade upon those that were the best ones.
And I have made improvements; the drop of some thirty-five pounds in the past year – and the elimination of certain medications partially as a result – has to count for something, doesn’t it? Even though I haven’t held onto my nadir at this point – partially due to my fitness center membership expiring – it’s been more than one step in the right direction, you would think.
Not that this has served to get the attention of anyone who could credibly pass for ‘Megumi,’ however. I find myself thinking that either she doesn’t exist at all, or she’s been hiding in plain sight all this time; the idea of cultivating a relationship from scratch at this point is beyond my ability to comprehend. Moving someone from literally nowhere to the front of the line, in terms of their knowledge of me (and I of her), seems all but impossible at this point.
But as my mind trails off on this particular train of thought, I chastise myself for even thinking about searching for someone else, especially on this day of all days, my very own personal day of remembrance. Just like this site itself, I’m trying to remember and honor you, and all I can do is talk about myself. What’s wrong with me, I ask, that I should be self-centered?
Of course, the answer is that, like anyone else walking this earth, I am that way because I’m human. The only eyes I can see out of are my own, the only perspective I understand is my lived experience. I don’t live anyone else’s life – and I have no idea what your afterlife is truly like – so how can I address those? All I have to talk about are my experiences, my feelings, my past, present and future (of which you now only belong to one of).
In any event, how would you best be commemorated at this point? Should I ring a bell at the stroke of nine thirty-two this evening, in the midst of a moment of silence? Much of my life is spent in silence these days, anyway, apart from the click of keys on this keyboard – what difference would another minute truly make? Would you even be aware of it?
I suspect not; indeed, I’m led to understand that the whole idea of time loses its meaning within the framework of eternity. In His presence, there is no night, for He Himself is pure light; with that in mind, how could you mark off the passing of days, let alone years? Besides, since you no longer walk the planet that defines what a ‘year’ is, such things simply don’t apply to you – and that’s not to mention the possibility that, like Him, you may well be beyond our petty dimensional confines of space and time and scale. You literally can no longer relate to those of us you left behind on this grain of cosmic sand. Indeed, it’s possible that if you were to try to do so, there are things going on here that would only make you sad, and such sadness doesn’t belong in heaven. So, such things as anniversaries (or would that be heavenly birthdays?) probably don’t even so much as come to mind where you are.
And yet, I continue to address you like this, throwing these bottled messages into the ether in the hopes that you might be kept abreast of the goings-on of the world and people – family, friends, loved ones all – in your absence. Happy… third year of new life?
Meanwhile, if you should happen to spare a glance back here, keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 