Even when I can't see...

The day I found this necklace, was just a few days after we buried Dad.  It speaks to me, varying its meaning depending on the day.  As in...

"I will"...  I will go through it.  I used to think "I can't."  I simply don't know how.  I know now, you just do it, without knowing how.  Through it, is the only way.  And its sorrowful, and messy, and gut wrenching, and beautiful, and life affirming, all mixed together.  But the only way, is through it.

"walk"... I will walk.  I'm leaning in, instead of running away.  I am moving, walking through.  Sometimes crawling, sometimes uncoordinated and faltering, but walking nonetheless.

"By Faith"...  where would I be if I didn't believe in something bigger than myself?  If I didn't believe Dad is in a far better place, not gasping for air, tied to a machine, purple in the face.  The words of the bible have taken on new meaning, even though I've read them numerous times before.  By Faith, when my human mind can't make sense anymore, and my broken heart can't bear any more pain.  When my eyes can't see, and my ears can't hear, and everything tastes like the salt of my tears.  By faith.

"even when I can't see"...  Like the day I found this necklace.  I was walking the street fair feeling, blunted, stifled, preparing for my eyes to fill with tears at any moment.  Walking around feeling like my insides are on the outside... exposed, raw, and wide open.  I ran into friends, I remember talking briefly, and suddenly I was standing alone.  I don't remember saying goodbye... or most of the conversation.  Maybe it was still shock, maybe it was preservation for a weary mind and body, but "normal" things like conversations and going to the street fair, aren't so normal right now.

Because instead I am focusing on the smell of the roasted turkey legs and they remind me of how much Dad loved it when we brought them home to him from the fair.  Or how at one time we would have walked from the fair to visit him at his wood shop just blocks away.  And when I keep these memories close to me, I keep a little piece of him still here.  Even when I can't see.

So "normal" is a struggle.  I forget dates, times, and what I am talking about in mid sentence.  I am like the surface of the river, on the outside I appear calm with a steady flow.  But below the tranquil surface, the undercurrent, like grief, runs deep, with a mighty pull that drags you under at times.

"I will walk by Faith even when I can't see."  I realize the phrase probably means, faith is what we can't see. But on a day when I couldn't see, this little necklace was the first thing I "saw" that made any sense to me at all.   So I keep my chain close as a reminder, so that I know...

I am walking,

by faith,

even when,

I can't see.