What If

Nathan and Lucas' birthday was on Monday. I remember getting the call from Midi very early in the morning on December 1st, 2003. She had been in the hospital for weeks because her pregnancy was high risk, and she finally was going to have the boys that morning. I handed off Emma as fast as I could, but made it up to the hospital just after their arrival. Lucas' part is on Saturday; I think the kids will be fine, but it's going to be a rough day for most of the adults.

It's been odd what triggers mourning for me these days. While Midi and I were in regular contact, between the 4 jobs, 4 kids and 4 extended families between my house and hers, we weren't apart of each others day-to-day lives for the most part. Our time together was in phone calls, occasional times out together, and gathering our families about once a month.

So what reminds me of the loss of her and Nathan on a daily basis is not anything directly connected to her. There is the relational hole I experience, the absence of someone who knew me better than anyone, perhaps, that is like missing some vital part of who I am like an arm or leg. I can cope relationally and spiritually without her presence in my life, but it looks so different than it did before.

And then there are the random things that remind me of her being gone, the things that I wouldn't be doing now if it weren't for her death. For example, I've been running and swimming on a regular basis the last few months, activities that were pretty rare for me before this year, because I don't enjoy the former and seldom have time for the latter. But I did this mini-biathalon in September where I did both, and they've now become more of my exercise routine as a result. But I only did the biathalon because I was on sabbatical, and I was only on sabbatical this year because of Midi's death. So running and swimming, these seemingly unconnected parts of my life to the loss of Midi, are intertwined with her being gone and are constant reminders of my grief as a result.

I keep wondering what life would be like for me had Midi and Nathan not died. How different would my relationships be, my relationship with God, how my year was spent? It's an impossible question to answer, and a somewhat useless one, except that I can already tell, in both significant and meaningless ways, that my life has shifted perceptibly because they're gone. "What if...?" is less about the answer and more about life taking a turn.