The letter to Steve was mailed, and my mission was complete. I had delivered Mari's message. Now, I needed to sift through the few mementos of my sister's life I brought back in my suitcase and figure out how I was going to crawl through the pain. Her death brought back my old friend the journal, awakening my love for writing myself out the pain by opening a vein and letting all the bloody hurt gush out. I continued and kept doing this practice, spilling the pain on the pages and out of my being. At least, that's what I hoped for.
I didn't think about what was happening at Steve's house; I had to tend to what kept seeping out of me. Then I received his email: “ I got your letter, and I would like to give you a call, but I have not been able to locate a working number for you. My condolences. I would like to respond to your very nice letter. ”
Once we connected on the phone, I heard that familiar voice, missing from my life for over 40 years. Steve thanked me for the letter. We caught up a bit, and then his wife, Sharon, asked if she could speak. She started the conversation by thanking me for the letter and saying how brave I was to write and send it. The letter confirmed what she already knew: Steve was a good man. I wasn't brave. It didn't take any courage to write that letter. It was something I had to do. Mari's apology had to get to him before it was too late.
We talked for a while and decided that we might like to speak again. In that short conversation, we found that Dave and Steve had much in common: gardening, photography, and woodworking. I had gleaned information from Sharon’s Facebook page over the years that I knew we could be friends. They were leaving for a trip but would be in touch when they returned.
We exchanged several emails and talked on Google chats. Before we knew it, we had planned to meet. In October, we headed there with plans to stay at their house. The thought of staying there felt awkward since we were strangers. Sharon told me later that her friends expressed concerns about allowing strangers to stay with them. But once we saw them, it was like meeting old friends. I found Steve to be the same guy I knew back then, with the same sense of humor. After our short visit, we said our goodbyes. I thanked them for inviting us, and I enjoyed seeing Steve after 40 years. Steve commented, "Well, don't wait so long next time."
During this visit, we spent much time getting to know each other and sharing our interests. Sharon and I planted some of my irises, played croquet, took hikes, and Steve showed Dave fractal wood burning. When we returned home, I created a fabric book of that visit, which I gave them on our next visit.
These are just two of the spreads of this book. For a complete look at the whole book, you can see it on my YouTube channel (@lyndaheines).
We celebrated a late Thanksgiving with them and a few of their friends the following month.
We recently returned from a vacation together at Cumberland Falls, almost halfway between our homes, where we made more memories. Next month, I'll visit Sharon for a "girls” getaway.
I've had my fears over the past year of this new friendship. Was this helping Steve? Am I a constant reminder of my sister and the pain she caused him so many years ago? Is this relationship keeping me in the pain of my loss, or is it helping me move through it? What if I open up my heart to them, and they die like everyone else in my life? Am I back to where I was before that letter? Lots of questions.
With the anniversary of Mari's death now past, my anger at myself for not doing more and Mari for not taking care of herself has morphed into sadness. But I do see the end of the grief in sight. My fear of this new relationship has subsided.
My sis, through her need to apologize, has given me the opportunity to get to know Steve and Sharon. She has given me this gift, and I’m forever thankful.
This experience has taught me a powerful lesson: follow your heart. Don't wait to tell the people you love how much they mean to you. Reach out and express gratitude to those who've positively impacted your life. Write a letter. Who knows what gift it might bring?
It was satisfying to read about this development. I'm very happy for you that you were able to reconnect with Steve and meet Sharon. I can imagine it was awkward in the beginning but hopefully, this new friendship has transformed the pain and hurt of the past into a more positive, ongoing reality that, day by day, will loosen the hold of the pain on all of your lives. Have a wonderful Girls' Getaway!!
A lovely read.