Tag: death

Memoir

Loss

Loss.

The memory comes back. Distinct. Clear. From 1972. One hot, humid afternoon in Kediri, Indonesia.

I’m just arriving at our home. After being away for high school a couple of months. In Jakarta.

Standing outside. Reaching for the handle of the screen door. And suddenly a subconscious map surfaces. One I never knew was there.

A map of presence. Home and those who belong in it.

Without warning, the realization of deep loss hits. Full force. There’s an empty space on that map.

The place where my sister Ann has always been.

Grief. Tangible.

Me with Momma and my new baby sister, Ann. Bangkok, Thailand. 1961.

Limits. We fight restrictions.

Don’t tie us down. Hem us in. Hold us back.

The old lie seeps in from birth. All the way from the Garden. “Did God actually say, ‘Don’t eat this’?” (Genesis 3:1-7)

And asserting independence, we step subtly off the path. Veer inconspicuously outside the way of truth. Go our own way.

We’re entitled to this freedom. This pleasure.

So we think.

Limits. Image by Isabella and Louisa Fischer on Unsplash.

Morning exercise at sunrise. Walking at a fast clip, tuned in to a podcast. Suddenly, there it is. Fragrance.

Distinct. Sweet. I don’t even have to look.

Honeysuckle.

Stopping, I turn and see. Down the the slope. A riot of honeysuckle blooms. Taking over the thicket.

Honeysuckle. Image by Dieter Staab at Pixabay.