I know I’ve not posted for a while.
I thought that once I finished my internship, I’d have time to post to my blog. Well, no. I spent the summer scrambling to get a chaplain residency, which I was able to do. I spent the first part of the summer writing my application and sending it off and interviewing, and the second half securing my apartment and taking care of logistical details related to moving to a new city. It was an exhausting summer.
My new city of [X] is further south than my former city of [Y]. Everyone says “ya’ll” here and iced tea is very easy to find. I haven’t quite settled in yet, though. I don’t really have a community of friends like I did back home, either in Y or where I went to seminary, further north.
I’m at week three of my new job and we are still technically in orientation, but we are now doing clinical work on our units. I’m busy, busy, busy, but I’m enjoying it. I like the human connection of listening to patients and staff and praying for them if they want prayer. A lot of the time, they tell me what their real issue is when I ask them what they want prayer for. Of course, if they don’t want prayer, I have to hope I’ve covered my bases adequately with active listening. I’m very much still learning.
October is coming. October 3rd was our anniversary. This will be our third anniversary since his death. We only had two years as a couple. It’s like a drum beat in my ears, the approach of the anniversaries. First our anniversary of dating, October 3rd, then November 6th, the anniversary of his death. The third anniversary of his death. Again, we only had two years together. Two years and one month.
I find myself missing him more than usual this time of year. It pulls at me like a tidal pull. Hard to believe he’s been dead longer than I ever knew him. Hard to believe. There are some people whose impact on your life is disproportionate, like a perfectly clear stream disturbed by a smooth pebble, where the ripples go on and on and on. Infinite ripples.
only three years
already three years
an eternity in three years
I miss him. I go on, I live my life, I have, at last, found meaningful work and am living in my own place, but that tidal pull of missing is not alleviated by any of it. It simply…continues.
Thaes oferaode, thisses swa maeg.