I’ve been thinking about loss the last few hours. Last night I walked by a restaurant I visited with my uncle a couple of years ago and paused for just a second. I remembered him and his spirit. I was taken aback. His death has had the greatest impact on me of anyone that I've been close to.
My grandmother and grandfather, I saw the world without them. I knew they wouldn't live forever. But my uncle, I never thought of the day when he would not be around. I mourn his loss in quiet times. I mourn his loss when I look for him and he is not there. Like at Christmas. Like when I want to ask my mom what he has been up to. Like when I was in Paris with my mother imagining how she and he would have experienced that trip together. Like whenever I hear jazz. I mourn him then.
Yet, his is not the only loss that has permeated my thoughts. The phantom friendship and companionship of the Phantom of the Opera has been there to – Phantom of the Opera and the men I met before him that I wanted to stick around but they chose not to. They chose to move on, move away, to just keep moving without me.
I miss Phantom because he saw me. In his own right he had wonderful vision and I also allowed him to see parts of me I’d not previously shared with someone like him. And do you know he saw me?! He absolutely saw me and was one of the most beautiful things to be seen. He saw me and wasn't afraid. I believe he actually saw my handsomeness and blemishes. A light was on in the room with just me and him and he walked about. He circled me. He spoke to me. He came close. He wasn't afraid.
But then, with the lights still on, he left. I was left in a room with the light shining on me all alone. So, I turned the light off.
And I feel like I’m in that room in the dark wishing, hoping, praying that someone would turn that light on and stay. Shut the door behind them. Stay.