“I can’t even imagine what I would feel, going through this!”
“You just can’t imagine it … you shouldn’t imagine it! Nobody should imagine it,” my friend who was working the ticket line said.
I filled in the blanks in my head: “Because then you might get too paranoid, too tight-reined on your kids or other loved one. If you fixate on losing someone, you may forget that they are still here.”
Your physical presence is gone from my view
But your energy still runs through the fabric of my being
And while my heart is now misshapen and heavy
Under the weight of your absence
I strive to keep it in one piece
Lest I risk wasting one ounce of the love I have always had
And always will have
I choose to honor you
By growing a sense of gratitude for
The opportunity to have known you at all
My life is richer for it
Although I can’t help but ache for more of you
I choose love
And as soon as I can rebalance this load
Get my legs under me again
With the help of all those standing by my side
I will carry on with that love growing ever in my heart
Spreading it, planting it wherever and however I can
How could I help but try to put myself in the shoes of these parents in town who have recently lost their children, or at any time, or in any place around the world? I know it happens, can happen, at any time, to anyone.
The overwhelming sentiment at the benefit drive-thru for Dante Garcia this past Wednesday was: “This is why we’re in this town, to embrace each other at times like this.”
And there were people from all circles of life there.
As usual, the volunteers were amazing — there were close to 100 people helping out. John from Moonstone Beach Bar & Grill and Steve from the Sea Chest Oyster Bar & Grill (take some credit, dude) once again, chipped in — amazing. Everyone who came through the line buying dinner, or not, but handing us money — or the innkeeper of the J. Patrick House who convinced her 15 guests to dine in, and was picking up their food and dropping off the $70 tip from those guests.
Yes, I could not possibly imagine what it’s like to be the Garcias or the Hopkinses right now. But if I did find myself in that spotlight, I would want to be in a community of truly caring and giving people. Like Cambria.
I think we have this time.
Dianne Brooke’s column is special to The Cambrian.