“Hello It’s Me”

“I’ve thought about you for a long, long time.”

Hello It’s Me by Todd Rundgren, 1972

Did you miss me?

I like this song. Though it is a bit sad. The music is great – I began thinking about blogging again this week. It’s been since the middle of March when I suggested I would be coming out with something big. It was supposed to be a commemoration of five years of wutjavia.com.

But life continues to unfold in unexpected ways. We all know change is inevitable. Whether a function of the times or of age, the speed and frequency of changes seems to be accelerating. Thus, I have been away from here for a while. And the post reminiscing about Wut Javia will have to wait. For now I turn my attention to the near future while keeping connection with my recent past.

The third anniversary of Pam’s passing is approaching. I have many reminders of its coming. I have many thoughts about its arrival.

When I left the bridge on May 12th last year, I told Pam I didn’t know if I’d be back. I had no idea what direction my life would head. I knew only that I was planning to move forward. Keeping Pam, and our past, in my thoughts and heart.

I have written about or alluded to some of the ways my life has changed since then. I moved closer to my son. I began a relationship with a woman. I vaguely knew Cathy from my past. She lost her husband just over a year ago.

Cathy and I have grown close and are making plans for our future together. It’s a good thing! We share many things in common. Our high school experience, the neighborhood where we grew up. Past acquaintances and friends. We also share much in our present. By far the least of which is the loss of our spouses.

As we learn about each other, we realize that former influences shaped who we are. They developed a basis for our compatibility. Our personalities jibe. But with enough differences to keep our relationship interesting. We enjoy music and nature. We contemplate God and the universe. We keep each other on our toes, so to speak.

I relay these things to you as pretext to what is soon to come. Cathy just experienced the first anniversary of her husband’s death. I am about to experience the third anniversary of Pam’s. Thus, I have asked Cathy to join me at the bridge in Nebraska. Three years ago, I poured Pam’s ashes over the bridge, into the stream that runs into her family’s heritage farm. Cathy enthusiastically agreed to come.

As Pam was dying, and after she did, I promised her that I would live the rest of my life. Not merely exist in grief. It is fitting that I share this solemn, heartfelt time with Cathy. In some sense I hope that it is a loving transition from my past to my future. A future that Pam told me would be. One I didn’t think was possible. On where I could love again.

Hello, it’s me. I still love you. I still think about you. I am moving ahead with a life without you in it. A life I know you would want for me. Your life too early ending.