A Thin Place – And A Dark Season Begins

The last time I was alone with Ron was October 31, 2015, when we walked in a new place, the restored train bed at Lorimer Park, where I showed him where the lower path connects to the running trail. We discussed how that path went from there through Pennypack Park and ultimately to the Delaware River. It was then Ron said, “Oh Mom, this is great. Some day I’ll run through the park and we’ll meet on the trail.”

On Facebook: Ron Silberstein Healing Bench
A thin place where all manner of people come, sit and reflect. – Ron Silberstein Healing Bench is on Facebook.

Those words are captured on Ron’s memorial bench  which is tucked inside the park, close to that trail he never did get to run.

Continue reading “A Thin Place – And A Dark Season Begins”

If healing comes, what will it be like?

In the days before Christmas, my sister, Patricia, who knows me inside and out, posted this for my benefit:  “Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break and all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go, love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you. ” L.R. Knost

Marge on Rons bench from Julia_LI
Ephemeral twilight moment captured at Ron’s bench, Lorimer Park by our granddaughter Julia.

Our son, Ron, died on December 25, 2015, Christmas morning. Tuesday, December 26, 2017, was Day 1 of Year 3. That Christmas Eve and Christmas morning of 2015 run through my mind like an old newsreel. I am at once remembering everything I did, every conversation I had that Christmas Eve, while simultaneously imagining every step Ron was taking in planning to end his life. I contrast my Christmas Eve joy to his Christmas Eve sorrow, my Christmas morning happiness to his Christmas morning resignation of his fate and ultimately his death.

When your child dies, they take an almost unnatural place in the heart and the psyche of the parents. Perhaps the shock and pain of a sudden, tragic death exacerbates the intensity of the sorrow, which may seem to border on obsession at times. What is the way forward? Is true healing even possible? We love our other children and grandchildren very dearly. We love the place they hold in our lives. But the one whose death was so sudden and crushing has, at once, opened a hole in our hearts and our lives while, at the same time, taking up more spiritual, emotional and psychic space than the others. Continue reading “If healing comes, what will it be like?”

Watching for Signs

sign kep calmThis is how long Ron has been gone: 1½ years, or 18 months, or 78 weeks or 548 days.  In the early weeks after Ron died, people would occasionally ask if I could sense his presence with me. I would occasionally fudge my answer and say yes, mostly because people expected that I would and because others reported sensing messages from their loved ones who had passed.  I was never actually sure of what the question meant and would answer in different ways according to different people or circumstances.  But mostly it seemed true but not in the way people thought.  Ron seemed to be with me because the separation was not real to me.  The primal connection could not be abruptly severed. It was impossible to suddenly let him go.  I have since learned that cells from the child remain inside the brain of the mother for always. Continue reading “Watching for Signs”

Trader Joe’s, Jamaican Beer and Resurrection

VeTJry recently I was in Trader Joe’s, mindlessly wandering around there as I am wont to do.  I was in the soft drink aisle with my right hand on a four-pack of Jamaican brewed ginger beer when a woman beside me softly said, “Does that taste good?” Continue reading “Trader Joe’s, Jamaican Beer and Resurrection”