“Orpheus sang his grief to all who breathed the upper air, both gods and men…”

grief of orpheus

So much has changed and nothing has changed since the morning my husband last tapped on the bathroom door to say goodbye before he left for work. Since he last called me while I waited for the kids at the dentist, to check in (as he always did) to tell me he was heading for the beach.

So much and nothing has changed since I began to worry, since I called and called again. Since I drove through the falling night, heart beating, to Baldwin Beach to try to find him.

The bathroom door is still here.

The phone is still here.

The beach is still here.

Palms still blow in the strong afternoon trades. Waves continue to build over shifting trenches offshore at Baldwin. They continue to break hard on the sudden shore.

The night will come.

My heart will beat.

And he will still be gone.

Our children will laugh and cry, triumph and struggle and grow.

My heart will heal (my wabi sabi heart, it’s healing now. It is.).

And he will still be gone.

A whisper in the wild night wind, a cooling, breathing shadow in the midst of a relentless afternoon, the earthy smell of coming rain just after sunset.

And he will still be gone.

And he will still be here.