How do you start the ending of a story? Where does it begin. Really. Can you compute the Adam and Eve concept? Is that where it all began? or is it more of a Möbius strip: a never ending one sided journey. To be or not to be. Clearly I’m not the first to ponder life’s mysteries.

Rudy refers to the (near) ending of something (usually a book or tv series) as “the final threshold”. It’s cute because he’s quoting lyrics from a piece in The Phantom of the Opera (The Point of No Return). Something is about to end.

That’s the curious thing for me. Death is final. It’s very weird to think that someone (or something like a pet) will never be on the planet again. No longer there to touch or feel. But although their physical being is gone, the spirit (like a Möbius strip) is never ending. Rudy’s parents have been gone for several years (2015 and 2017) yet we speak of them almost daily. A funny anecdote or saying will have their spirit in the room in an instant. Today I stepped on a dog kibble. Molly has been gone for a few months and today she showed me she was there. Rudy has resumed his daily morning walks; I’m sure she walks beside him. On a TV at the nail salon there was a piece about a wolf sanctuary. https://www.seacrestwolfpreserve.org/ One of the wolves was the spitting image of our first dog Spike. It brought a tear to my eye.

We’ve lost a few loved ones over the past year. It’s never easy. Some harder than others. But in every case, we seem to enjoy their presence in our conversations. Something about something or somewhere gives us a reminder. They are still with us. Just in a different way.

I suppose if you enter the final threshold or you’re caught by surprise you may have left things unsaid. Unfinished business? Apologies? Expressions of love? How do you close the gap if things are troubling you. Or do you let grief take it’s course and look for the eventual light. It’s personal. That’s for sure.

To me, writing is cathartic. Maybe it’s a poem or a letter or a blog post. There’s always a medium one can find comfort in when they express their feelings. I believe that internalizing emotions can be very unhealthy and sometimes they find an outlet that isn’t pleasant. I get cold sores. Stress can eat you alive.

For some the legacy is on public display. Our friends father was a renowned judge. His name lives on as it is displayed on the courthouse in Hamilton. Others are displayed in halls of fame. Stars in Hollywood. Fodder for books. Some are remembered for their good deeds or heroism. The point is, everyone everywhere makes an impression or has an impact on someone. Princess Diana had throngs of mourners. Fellows on death row might have a handful. Someone always feels the impact of a loss.

Rudy and I talk about our work life from time to time and realize we were a bit self important. Everything was a big deal. The more hours we worked the better it could be. We laugh about it now. We were so wrong. What was important was our ability to provide incomes for our employees and their families. We made a difference. Now that we look back on the staff we had and the rents we paid and the students we trained, we can see what was truly important.

Here’s the other part of the final threshold, then, that can get a bit messy. When it’s our time to go (Rudy’s dad used to say “when your numbers up…”) what will we ponder? Regret? Hope? The answer will appear. Do we let ourselves off the hook for things we said and did? I think those with Faith might have a different perspective or opinion. Throughout time, those of Faith found comfort and solace in their spiritual community. (Rudy thinks that the confessional was used for nefarious purposes throughout the ages. Like blackmail and extortion. I digress). I think that nowadays we may have moved away from the traditional sense of community. We have on line places and friends. But the old fashioned personal connections has become less. People need to belong. Just ask Maslow. https://www.simplypsychology.org/maslow.html. If people don’t belong or feel secure, they can’t reach their peak. That’s a whole other level of rabbit hole.

We need our families. We need our friends. We need community.

Today I visited our neighbour in the hospital. Her and her husbands birthdays are this week (80 and 82). He hasn’t left her side. He’s even sleeping there. They have two little (old) dogs that cry when he’s gone; he comes back to tend to them a couple of times a day. He told me today that he misses the community; he’s feeling alone. I didn’t know what to say.

Our friends shared a photo of Giovanni (a beloved Italian chef who we adored) just before he died suddenly last fall. It was completely unexpected. He would have been 74 today. I always joked with him that his voice was perfect for a 1-900 number. We could have made a fortune. He touched many lives within his communities: Italian chefs association, restaurant ownership, instructor, pilot). He loved life and lived well.

On March 18 we lost a son. He was 46. He lived a colourful life: hockey, football, military. Travelled far and wide. He settled in Thailand and dug his roots. He found love and community a zillion miles away. He passed peacefully in his sleep.

My friend Angela succumbed to her cancer on March 23. She was diagnosed in February and gone in March. The final threshold was quick for her. I hope she found the peace and comfort she so desperately needed from her family. I feel she longed for their love and acceptance. To fill the gaps she shopped. And shopped. And shopped.

Just as I’m writing (finger pecking actually) our other neighbour popped over. She found out I was at the hospital today. So I’m taking her tomorrow. In the conversation she let us know that within a few months last year she lost three sisters and a nephew. Ugh. Reminds us gently that we are not unique in our losses and sorrow. It’s all part of the never ending cycle. The circle of life.

An old friend was told by his mother, when he asked her if he looked ok going to a school dance, “you’re not as important as you think you are; no one really cares what you’re wearing”. Sorry Helen, I think you’re wrong. We are as important as we think we are.

Go hug your loved ones and tell them how you feel. If the Fockers can have a circle of trust, I think we can have a circle of LOVE 💗