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| Under the Expanded Sky Back to The Expanded Sky |
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| by Alice Wisler | |||
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At the school parking lot, I watch the principal ease out of his car. Greeting him, I waste no time.
We pick up from our discussion of nights earlier at the committee meeting. "I can't believe she's gone." Tears form in his large brown eyes. I ask more about her, knowing from experience that talking about the dead is such a healthy tribute. "She was so good with her students. She was a talented and vibrant person." His face holds anguish as he questions, "Why couldn't she have hit the grass instead?" But this young teacher's head hit the pavement when the horse threw her off, just a week ago. | |||
| More from Alice Wisler | |||
| I feel my own heart
break a little more as I think of her parents. How will they survive without her? Oh....I know. Like I have
and do, since the death of my own son, five years ago. With pain, confusion, doubt, fear and that intense
longing to see his little face and feel his arms around me. Suddenly Nayo is approaching me. In her son's memory she has created a program for students with learning disabilities. Since her son's suicide, she has risen with strength and boldness to help educate our society on teen suicide, desperate to prevent more untimely deaths. When I ask how she is doing, her reply comes out in slow breaths, "Some days are better than others. Today is a hard one." Later in the same parking lot, Andy, also on the committee, joins us. The warm spring air must be therapy at work this morning for he begins to share about the death of his brother thirty years ago. His focus is more on his parents and
their lack of emotion, which Andy feels has caused him much turmoil over the years. "They never cried," he tells
us. "I never ever saw them cry nor talk about my brother." Through self-help books Andy has had to grow on his
own, in spite of his mother and father who were unable to parent him like he wanted them to once his brother died.
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Living Life from the Graveyard Is There Laughter After Death? Grief Meets the Answering Machine There is Nothing Wrong with You! Scared to Death of Dying and Denying Grief | ||
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That evening I feel compelled to stand in our yard beside the weeping willow tree. It is the tree we planted in memory of Daniel. I watch the sky form delicate strands of pink and orange. It is as though the dead and the living are coming together, finding each other over the vast sky. The two colors blend, united, forming a rich and warm quilt, no longer separated by anything. I feel myself in the blending of this one purple creation, knowing those we long for and are separated from are as visible as this night sky. The stars and moon appear, adding warm light. I see the night fabric spread over yesterday and today, stitched with the threads of love that know no time. Near me, in the trees and pond, bullfrogs and crickets orchestrate the music. The aroma of geraniums filters the air, bringing the comfort and solace of generations. And under the expanded sky, I find the familiar tears fill my eyes. Watching the grand creation above, I vow again to be the person unafraid of grief. I let my grief make me bold enough to share, to listen, to remember, to love, to grow. | |||
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