A Day To Remember

Today is Geneviève's memorial.  Friends and Family will gather to share stories.  I regret to say I will not be attending.  I will miss the funny stories, the smiles, the laughter, and the inevitable tears.  I will have to be satisfied with the memories I shared with Gen.

Gen's family welcomed all to share their stories either in person or via e-mail to be read during the memorial.  I've already shared many stories of our Caminos together in Homer's Travels.  They are all there for anyone to read.  (Our 2011 Camino was documented from August through October 2011 and our 2013 Camino was documented  from November 2013 through February 2014.  I refer to Gen as G_v.)

We all mourn ...

We all mourn in our own way.  I realize now that I began mourning the day Gen told the world of her diagnosis and her chance of survival.  I spent the next eight weeks grieving and sinking into depression.  I went through most of the stages of grief ... a few of them several times over.  It came to a crescendo on the day of her passing.  I woke up on the first of December and I felt the depression lifting.  Things that once reminded me of sadness now brought a smile to my face. Instead of wandering melancholy spaces I explore galleries of our happy times on the Camino.

I would like to share one thing.  During one of our chats in November I told her:

"I always felt you there along the edges of my life.  I don't want that feeling to go away but I know it will."

Geneviève responded:

"I will always be next to you ... I'll be among the stars shining over you."

I couldn't understand it then, I thought they were just words to comfort me, but I feel it now, I feel her next to me as I walk, I understand, and it does gives me comfort and that is how it should be.  Gen had given me a final gift - acceptance.