You may have noticed that there is a word I almost never write. A word for which I have developed a laundry list of substitutes. Ironic given the topic at hand. Died. Dead. Death. I won’t say it.
Murdock departed. He went to heaven. He left. But, he did not die. It’s not possible.
Yes, maybe it’s denial. Maybe it is my absolute refusal to believe that he is gone – and hence my refusal to use the word that confirms it’s true. It has been 2 years and 4 months. I am used to the emptiness of my life, and the hollowness within. Reality has long set in. He is not here.
But, in my heart – my rational, analytical, always questioning heart – I know he is not gone. I have not dreamed of him. I haven’t heard sounds that may be him. I envy those stories. But his presence in my life is unquestionably real. During my darkest moments, he has had friends unexpectedly reach out to me; he has had black labs walk by my window; he has made my wind chimes (gifted to me as a remembrance after his departure) ding in stillness; he has sent the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile to follow me along my running route (that is a story for another day). And there are times when I feel his presence in my house. I don’t know how to explain that feeling, other than it makes my soul alive and full and happy, like it did when he was physically here.
The dictionary defines dead as “no longer alive.” Not the most descriptive definition – but it’s simplicity illustrates my point. Those we love, our soulmates, are not “no longer alive.” They are not dead. Murdock’s presence in my life has never ended, will never end. It is not the way I would choose – but when he was physically here, Murdock did not always do things the way I would have chosen. The greatest gifts in life come not as what you want, but as what you need.
Shortly after Murdock departed, I was telling a friend that when the moment came, I had expected to feel some kind of gut punch, or physical pain from having my soul ripped out – but I didn’t. It almost felt like he hadn’t left. She said to me “Of course he didn’t leave. Where would he go? He would never leave you.” It was comforting at the time, it still is – but it is also absolutely true. When you find your soulmate, you are soulmates forever.
I first read this poem many years ago. Since Murdock left, it has taken on a deeper meaning, and runs through my mind frequently.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Murdock did not die. As long as I am here, Murdock is here. Where else would he be?
