Love, loss and promises kept at the Labyrinth
Last December, I wrote about the promise I made to Sarah when I took her to the labyrinth towards the end of November. We had planned to go many more times, but her untimely, unexpected passing changed my life – my entire family’s lives. This is what I wrote:
“But I will make good on the promises I have made to her. So, Sarah Boo, this blog is for you. I know you can read it from the other side. I promise you, I’ll keep writing and doing my art. And, I’ll be taking you back to the labyrinth – all four seasons, with pictures. You’ll travel in my heart instead of in my car. You’ll be in the center of my heart instead of the center of the labyrinth. And I’ll whisper “I love you,” knowing that you can hear me – whether in the labyrinth or in my heart.”
And now, a difficult promise is fulfilled…
Well, I did it. Just like I promised you, I returned to the labyrinth and took photos so we could see how it looked in the winter, spring, summer and fall.
There were so many days I wanted to go to the labyrinth – but I was missing you so much – I just didn’t have the emotional strength to head out there. Yet, on other days, I’d feel you nudge me. I’d see heart shapes. I’d feel a pull to the labyrinth. This message you sent to nudge me, well, all I can say is, “wow!” When I found your perfectly-formed “S” after my morning exercise routine, I knew I had to go. So, the fall photos happened later that day. (See, I do listen! LOL 😊)
I love that you leave me messages – in the shape of an “S,” or a cloud or a heart or an animal. My camera is filled with images that I know you’ve sent.
While I know you are around me all the time, I miss that physical connection we had. I miss seeing you and hearing your voice. I want you to know, almost every photo I take, it’s because I see you in it – or feel you in it.
This fall, the colors have been so amazing and vibrant. I know it was one of your favorite seasons. The red has been so very vibrant – you’d absolutely love it.
It may be my imagination, but I swear, since you’ve transitioned, I have seen more amazing sunsets, cloud formations, hearts, vibrant colors – more than I ever remember. I feel that God is just giving you the most amazing art supplies so that you can keep reminding me – reminding all of us – you are still with us every day. Especially when you paint the skies in the evenings.I feel that God is just giving you the most amazing art supplies so that you can keep reminding me – reminding all of us – you are still with us every day. Especially when you paint the skies in the evenings. #SarahStrong #CloudsForSarah Click To Tweet
Enjoy the four seasons of photos from the labyrinth, Boo. I know that you helped me take all of these, because you caught my eye with the beauty of nature. A beauty that you are so excited to share as a reminder that you are always there.
Love you so very much, Boo Bear. Thanks for the continued inspiration and signs of love. It means so much to me.
Love, Mema xoxo
10 Replies to “Love, loss and promises kept at the Labyrinth”
Such a beautiful message to all of us. God does his work in mysterious ways. I get a similar feeling when out at White Chapel with Barb. I look at the clouds and I swear she is there talking to me. You have such a way with words that convey feelings. Thank you for sharing your story and beautiful pictures. Sarah is missed, but she is really here in our hearts!
Thank you. Bob. Yes, I so believe our loved ones are with us. ❤
Lynne, it’s hard not to get misty eyed while reading this. I can feel the emotion in every word. I’m a believer that there are signs our loved ones send to us, and that “nudge” that you felt was Sarah telling you you’ll be okay, because she’ll be there with you. She’s giving you the strength you need to get through this. The photos are so beautiful! May you find peace in the beauty that God has created. ❤️
Thanks so much, Denise. I wonder if I appreciate some things more, because of Sarah ❤
So amazing. Thanks for your sharing. It makes grief, something to be talked about.
Thank you. I think people are afraid to talk about grief. But we shouldn’t be afraid
How beautiful! No we shouldn’t be afraid of speaking about greif or writing such a beautiful poem about a loved one. I understand the reluctancy of vulnerability very well. I also understand how powerful vulnerability is. And how healing writing is. Love you very much Aunt Lynne.
Thanks, Chris. Love you very much, too. ❤
This is beautiful, Lynne. Thank you for sharing your gift and the journey you’ve been walking.
Thanks, Beth, and you’re welcome. I can only hope it helps others on their journey