A Sunday Thought…and a Thought
Folks, when I woke up earlier today, I thought hard about life. About what my place in the world is (nay, bigger than that — the entire universe!), and whether or not what I’m doing is my best course of action.
Then I snorted, sat up, and started laughing in near-hysteria.
I’m a writer. An editor. A musician. A scholar of arcane disciplines, and a student of history. Also a daughter, a friend, a colleague…
And, of course, the widow of Michael B. Caffrey.
This last is my most precious joy, not because of the widow part — far, far from it! — but because Michael was the most amazing person I have ever had the privilege to behold. He was funny, smart, self-educated, gifted at many things, and a person of remarkable wit and consequence. Michael mattered so very much; what had formed him, what had shaped him, into the man I feel in my heart was firmly destined to be my husband and other half of my soul interested me greatly.
Because we didn’t have that much time together, there are some things I will never know from his perspective. (I have picked up on some additional things since his untimely passing from his sister, his nieces, a few of his friends, and his ex-wife, who was possibly his very best friend in all the world besides myself.) But one thing I do know…Michael was special, and important, and being with him was worth every last bit of pain I’ve suffered since his untimely passing.
Much less the pain I endured before I ever met him, as I’d been previously — and quite unhappily — married before I had the privilege to meet him.
I mention all of that because it’s important to me. Important enough that I’m willing to put it out there, for all to see, in a format that will last as long as the Internet does…and perhaps longer.
But perhaps that seems obvious to you. If you’ve been here before, you know this about me by now; I have suffered, but I have learned, and I have been deeply loved. These things cannot help but mark a person. And in this case, I hope they have made me a better person.
That said, I can’t help but reflect on how life, all in all, marks us. We are all the sum total of our experiences. If we are wise, and learn from our mistakes — and celebrate our joys, no matter how brief and evanescent they may be — we may become our best selves, and worthy of the highest love our species can bestow.
This Sunday, I want you to consider your own highest gifts and blessings. From where did they spring? What are you doing with them, now, and what will you do with them in the future?
Now, as for the additional thought…this was my original post on the subject at Facebook, a few short minutes ago (if you want to read my public posts at Facebook, go here):
One of my best friends just pointed out that everything in life, good and bad, is a learning experience. As a writer, I tend to observe much, even when I don’t seem to be taking it in…the hope is that it gives my stories more weight, as I can’t help but do it anyway.
That said, as I’m in the month of June — my wedding anniversary rapidly approaches, the 14th (and 12th without my beloved husband by my side), I marvel at the changes life has brought. Some have been horrible. Some have been remarkably good.
But to get to Michael, to be with him, to hear him laugh and to create works with him was my most precious joy. I’d not change any of that for the world.
Thus are today’s Sunday thoughts.
Any questions?
I expected to read this with sadness yet i read it with a smile, it was a smile as I could feel the love and the appreciation for the time you had with your husband and the experience and honour of loving him that you had been blessed with. You have not let the loss of Michael make you bitter but have carried all that was positive about him and your marriage with you, and with that he lives on alongside you and I think, as your anniversary approaches, you have bestowed the greatest honour and gift upon him possible. It was a pleasure to read your post. x
Jo
July 22, 2016 at 9:20 am
Thank you so much, Jo. I try my best.
And yes, I believe that love — true love — does not die. I think it was a gift from the Deity Herself (or Himself, or Itself, whatever you think the Deity is as I think it must be way beyond human comprehension), and I’m doing my best to remember that blessing always. I never expected to find anyone remotely like Michael, and I am glad I did. He made an enormous difference in my life, and he still does to this day.
Someday, perhaps, I’ll write a memoir. But I’d like to be a bestselling novelist first…or at least a medium-selling novelist. 😉
Barb Caffrey
July 23, 2016 at 2:57 am