Remembering

On November 17th Becky would have been 72. But breast cancer claimed her on June 9th, 2012, less than a week before our 36th anniversary. The significance of that fact was lost on me for years. June 9th left me with indelible memories that I can recall clearly at any time. My memory has never been great, but the two years preceding Becky’s death are more clearly inscribed in the clay of my mind than most of the rest of my life.

Throughout our years together, Becky worked to make the world a better place. And for those she knew and served, she did just that. She could feel others pain, knew where it came from, and did what she could to relieve their suffering. She showed me what caring, dedication meant. Because of her, I grew more aware, imperfectly, of the unique paths each of us travel.

I often think of Becky. I have pictures of her scattered around the house. One of my favorites is of her by the pond in Monet’s garden. We would make a pilgrimage to Giverny and Monet’s house every few years. She loved the garden and how it changed with the seasons. Becky wasn’t perfect. She had her seasons too. I prefer to remember her in Monet’s garden.

The years following her death have been a mixture of frenetic activity, unconsciously trying to avoid remembering, followed by deep introspection, which revealed to me my failures as a friend, lover, and life partner. It was and continues to be a humbling experience. There were many times that I could have been more patient, understanding, and supportive; more loving.

This is a stage of grief called Regret. It is a blessing. Where the pain of remembrance is the most intense is where I see most clearly how to improve my relationships with others. After awhile, I began to understand that the past is the past. It can not be undone. But, it does not need to repeat.

Time heals all wounds. That is true, but it has left scars to help me remember.

So nine years after her death, through my regrets, Becky continues to guide me towards being a better person.

Every year of my life is precious and growing more so. Yet, those years with Becky are the most precious.