As the year draws to a holiday close, I get reflective on the events that have occurred in the past three-hundred plus days. It appears that as November and December open their doors, I have an overwhelming need to take stock in that which has transpired.
I’m a writer. I’m always digging for the moments from which I will draw inspiration and when I find the muse, the words flow. These posts of mine are the remnants of fabric that contribute to the quilt of my art, pieces of me and those around me that document snippets into this Juan life. They are my common threads.
As this blog has matured, the entries have been less censored and bathed in a truth that oft times I cannot silence – the quilt welcoming scraps of over sharing and incidents that perhaps never had place in a blog and yet they made it there.
This post is no different. I like to refer to my Sunday morning writings as the soul cleansing vignettes that allow me to embrace a forthcoming week as I commune with the silence of my thoughts and the newness of the day.
Reflecting on my quilt and its many pieces, I recognize how loss has been a big part of my life this year and how all significant losses always come in threes.
As I look back, I know there was one loss that could not be helped for we hold no dominion over death and terminal illness. Death is life happening, finding its place in the stillness of time (as we watch), we becoming the bystanders of that final, inevitable ovation. The quilt gains a notch of experience and grief, joined to all the others collected through the years, our hands periodically touching these pieces to remind us of these intimate, life and post-life connections.
Another loss was gradual, the pieces of this life’s quilt becoming unstitched by deception, not finding mend in the thread of forgiveness, mired into indifference by unexplained prolonged silence and unwarranted rejection. This reality, leading me to know that this pretty section of my quilt will forever be special, but for now will be gone, perhaps permanently.
And then there is the unexplained loss where reason has escaped from the home of sanity and the ties of years are disbanded unceremoniously and without fanfare. The intensity of friendship ends without explanation and what remains are the sporadic moments where souls coincide because habit, more than desire, have placed them there. This is the portion of the quilt where we no longer find warmth, so we revert to the portions of the quilt that still remain comfortable.
Losses of connection symbolically represented in the quilt of life. Losses documented in a sentimental fool’s blog post. Losses so real they hold a surreal quality to them because of the bizarre turn of events they represent.
But life goes on and the quilt of destiny will continue to grow from the shreds of life experience that will be sewn onto its edges, the quilt growing, expanding and covering the life of this man with all of his flaws and humanity, meticulously stitched together with the common thread that are his words.