9 Years

9 years. That’s how long it’s been since Laura died. It’s also the term for a Presiding Bishop in the Episcopal Church. I spent this week in Louisville, Kentucky at the General Convention of the Episcopal Church and was able to be present for the historic moment when the House of Deputies affirmed the House of Bishop’s election of a new Presiding Bishop. I also had the privilege of attending the retirement celebration dinner for Presiding Bishop Michael Curry. Nine years ago he was elected. Nine years ago my husband, Jeremiah, was at the General Convention that elected him in Utah. Nine years ago I was on the phone with him as he took breaks from the convention work and as I took breaks from the crowded Hospice room where Laura was fighting for every breath and we both tried to hold it together because we both loved her. Our Bishop at the time, Mark Hollingsworth had the House of Bishops pray for Laura. I have always appreciated that, even more so now that the House of Bishops is community for me in a new way. Sometimes life falls into cycles. Every time Bishop Curry speaks I find myself filled with emotion. One reason is because he is a powerful, passionate speaker who has done amazing things for the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion and he will be greatly missed. The other reason is because I realize nine years is a long time.  It’s been a long time since Laura was alive.

               The night after the new Presiding Bishop was elected I had a dream about Laura. She was coming towards me and she looked very young and as she approached I kept having realizations that it wasn’t her, it was just someone who looked a lot like her and every time I realized that I felt a wave of sadness through my body. I think I had that dream because as I have thought about what to say this year, I have realized that there is a danger in filling in the pieces of memory with assumptions and maybe even things I have thought Laura might think or say or do … because our brains can only hold so much and as much as we try to avoid it, the memory we have of someone is incomplete. I don’t want to try to make it complete by guessing what she might think or say or do about things that she never got to think or say or do.  And yet, I still want to hold onto and honor the memory I do have of her and the memories all of her many loved ones and friends have of her. And so, I keep writing every year on this day, knowing that it will fall short of capturing who she was … but that’s only human.

               Laura brought out an authenticity in myself and others. She did that by always being so authentically herself. She said the things that needed to be said, even if it was uncomfortable. She was her same sarcastic, deeply caring, witty self with everyone, and I think that’s why everyone’s relationship with her was so meaningful and the loss felt so deeply.

               I have been thinking a lot about authenticity. I thought that being in my forties would be a time of nicely settling into the life I have built, the relationships I value and the person I want to be for the rest of my days. Instead it has felt like upheaval. And not just because of a cross country move, completely new role in the church and a sometimes fumbled and awkward approach to introducing myself to loads of new people. It’s also been a wild ride of hormones, getting to know my body, anxiety and deeply felt emotions that sometimes scare me. (I hesitated before saying hormones, but if I am going to honor Laura, then I have to be able to be brutally honest. She faced death, cancer and unplucked chin hairs with brutal honesty and courage, so surely I can talk about midlife changes.) So rather than a gentle settling in to the life patterns I have established and predicted paths I have held, it feels more like jumping from a plane (and I’m really hoping the parachute works.) And I have sometimes wondered how to be authentic when I am not really sure who I am right now.

               This is where I start to do that thing where I want to fill in the blanks of what Laura might think or do or say and say that she would understand or would tease me for always worrying, but she didn’t get to see her forties, and that injustice still makes me sad and angry. What I do know though is how courageously she faced the upheaval that came into her life. Her kids stayed front and center in her mind, even when her head was pounding and her heart was breaking. She wouldn’t let go until I told her they were ok. Her authenticity meant she was able to ride the changes and tragedies of life with eyes wide open, unwavering faith and a devotion to her family that surely has made them the wonderful people they are today. And, she definitely put her foot in her mouth and said awkward things sometimes.

               So that’s what we do  … we face each day with courage, we hold firm to our faith in a God who is loving and never leaves us, we continue to love our families fiercely and sometimes we are awkward and sometimes we mess up. Because life is brutiful but we love love love always always always.

 

Grateful for her blog, that helps me remember her: https://publiclookin.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2015-02-03T11:57:00-08:00&max-results=7

Photo taken from her blog