Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Good Stuff

When I met Jon, I swear the earth stopped moving for a moment.  I'm not trying to be completely sappy and romantic.  That's actually not how I mean it at all.  I don't want to say it was love at first sight.  The only way I can describe it is like getting hit in the face.  My world stopped for a split second, and though I could not put my finger on it at the time, it was like hearing a voice in my head say, 'He's going to be important.  This moment  is important . . .  life-changing."  I'm not sure if that makes sense.  I had experienced moments like that to a much lesser degree a few times before that.  

I was watching Forest Gump the other night while Danny and I were both sick, and at the end, Forest talks about how some people believe in destiny and others say we're just floating around 'accidental-like' on the breeze... and how he believes it's a little of both.  I have to agree.  The only way I can really explain it is that the moment I met Jonathan (and the somewhat similar moments I'd experienced previously) was a "destiny" moments.  Moments like that are rare and they serve almost as a reminder -- as if to tell us (in case we were wondering) some things are NOT coincidences . . . the choices we make are life-altering, and this one right here, well, it's is a BIG one.  You're gonna remember this one. And maybe, just maybe, there is something bigger than us guiding us along, at least for the important decisions. 

I believe without a shadow of a doubt, that I was meant to love Jon.  That I was meant to enter his life at that EXACT time I did.  And though it pains me to say, perhaps, I was meant to lose him.  I'm not sure why I was part of that plan, but as painful of a journey as it's been, I feel nothing but blessed.  Someone or something chose me to love him, when he needed to be loved the most.  And yes, my loss is profound, but I share it with the hundreds of other people who miss him every day . . . and we share the common despair over what he could have done with more time, as well as the pride in all he accomplished in the time he had.  I feel lucky to have been one of the lucky ones who got to know him and be a part of his life.  The people who knew him, grew up with him, loved him . . . they will always hold a special place in my heart.  More than anything, I know how lucky I was that he chose me to love back.  

Right after he died, EVERYthing was a sign.  I like to think that at least some of the little things I noticed or small coincidences were in part his doing . . . his way of reminding me that he was thinking of me.  But, now it takes a hell of a lot to get me see it as a sign.  Maybe it's because I've experienced REAL, life-changing, world stop spinning moments.  I think when you know, you know.  And there will be big and small reassurances that you're on the right path.  

Take the moment I saw Danny for the first time, for instance.  It felt like my brain emptied of all it's thoughts, except that I wanted to know him. And not just because I thought he was attractive.  It's hard to articulate, but it was so much deeper than that.  There was that "he's important!!" sign flashing in my head.  And little did I know just how important he would turn out to be . . . or how wonderful.  

And now, every important future moment that I see in my head, has him in it.  I know without question, that I'm where I'm supposed to be and I'm loving who I'm supposed to love.  The hard part for me is letting go of the irrational thoughts in my mind that say, what if I lose him, too? At least I know I'm being crazy.  It's just that Jon and I made plans that never happened.  Yes, Jon had cancer.  Yes, there was a constant, realistic threat to all of our plans . . . Unfortunately, the possibility of losing him was always a rational thought.  But I'm still scared.  Mainly because I think a person's heart can only take so much.  I am afraid to dream sometimes.  But little by little, as pieces fall together, I can breathe a little easier and recognize how silly I'm being.  I don't know if I'll ever let my guard down completely though.

I've given this man my heart . . . and he holds it, ever so gently, knowing how fragile it is.  Jon and I used to say, "Only good stuff from now on." I hear that in my head sometimes when I'm sitting next to Danny on the couch and I look over and can't help but smile.  I know Jon would be happy about all the "good stuff" in my life . . . and all the beautiful, sparkling moments yet to come. 

" The heart is made of the only substance in the universe that gets stronger after it has been broken."

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