Three weeks. Only three weeks. Wow, three weeks already! Each time I say it, it has a different connotation to it. It was three weeks ago that I got on a plane, trying to reach Rhoda before she died. Three weeks ago, I said goodbye to my daughter in Oregon. Said goodbye to Handsome Husband and got on a plane and tried to not think of what was in front of me.
The flight from one coast to another took forever and ended in both sadness when I was told that Rhoda had died while I was enroute, and happiness when I was greeted by my angel sisters, who whisked me away to be immersed in the love of more angel sisters as we grieved together.
What was planned as a three week drive across country took five hours by plane. I spent three days and four nights with my angel sister Natalie and her family, who nurtured me and made me feel so welcome. Then I came to our temporary home, loaned to us by my angel sister Diana. Hours spent with angel sisters at dinners, for coffee, at the movies, hanging out time. The time, which had flown, slowed. Nightly phone calls with Handsome Husband as he drove from one state to another, making his way East. Sadness about Rhoda. Love from so many friends, his and mine. Anticipation of his arrival. And his arrival, finally, on the day that I would have arrived so that I could spend some time with Rhoda. It took him forever to arrive! God, I can’t believe Rhoda’s already been gone for three weeks-three weeks passed so quickly! Truly, what is time but the events of that time? And the exact same time seems to crawl or fly, dependent upon our perception of those events.
Three weeks has put time into perspective for me.