My Silver Lining

It seems that anytime you are facing a difficult life experience, someone always feels the need to remind you to search for the silver lining. Most of the time, this rather philosophical tidbit of information is accompanied by a sympathetic yet understanding smile and a pat on the back. As do most recipients of this rather tired cliché, I normally try to muster a smile of thanks and then move on. The words never seemed to carry any great emotional lift or motivating quality for me.

This exact scenario played out for me yet again at my Mother’s funeral. I tried to focus on the positive points, or at least what I presumed were the positive points for my Mom. First, she would not be suffering from multiple illnesses any longer. The past two years had been very difficult for her as her health had steadily declined. Second, she would not be alone; she had spent the last ten years missing my father and looking forward to a very joyful reunion with him. These benefits I recognized and appreciated, but I still could not find a silver lining that applied to me. I had lost my Mom and nothing about that was good, no matter how I looked at it.

My husband, our son, and I had made the 2000 mile trip back to Ohio for the funeral. It consisted of three days that were literally packed with visits from friends and family. Finally, the afternoon after Mom’s burial service, we all had a chance to sit down and reflect on the blur that had been the last three days.

During the entire ordeal, my husband had been right by my side. He was my strength and my courage when I needed him the most. He had wiped the tears and consoled the broken hearts of everyone in my family. And now that he had supported us through this difficult time, he had a task that he needed to complete; a task that had been weighing heavy on his heart for years.
Over the years, his family had dwindled down to just a handful of members and unfortunately, he and his only aunt had not spoken in several years. The cause and the reasons had faded, but that void had left an aching hole in his heart. So today, he was going to reach out to her and ask her to please meet him for a cup of coffee so that they could talk.

I know he was worried that she might not respond or even worse simply say no. But he was willing to risk that painful potential in the hope that she would agree to meet him. He grasped tightly to the glimmer of hope that today, somehow, he could begin to mend that connection with his aunt that he had cherished all of his life. This was our one chance to meet her face to face and try to overcome whatever nonsense had caused this pain in our family. We were returning home to Phoenix the next day and were not sure if or when we would be back in Ohio. It felt like the universe had given us this beautiful, sunny September afternoon to begin to heal in many ways.

Much to our satisfaction, Aunt Sandy agreed to meet us at a coffee shop in just a few hours. The drive was almost silent and the tension was unmistakable. We were eager to see her but at the same time apprehensive to see how she reacted to us. The past three days had left our emotions raw, and I only hoped that this visit would not cause my husband further heartache. As we drove, I mentally “bartered” with a higher being. Please, I begged, please let this go well for my husband. He has done so much for me and my family this week, and all that he wants is a chance to make things right with his aunt.

We arrived and entered the shop a little tentatively. This walk felt eerily similar to the walk this morning to my Mother’s graveside; I knew where I was going but was unsure of what to expect. I looked across the room just as Aunt Sandy and Uncle Bob saw us and stood up to greet us. I took one deep breath and braced for whatever might come next. Then I saw that Aunt Sandy had tears running down her face as she moved forward and wrapped her arms around my husband. As they stood clinging tightly to one another and sobbing, I could not stop my own tears from falling, but this time I was smiling. This time we were all shedding tears of joy!
The much anticipated first moments of awkwardness never happened. There were more hugs, kisses, tears, and apologies and then a moment of silence as we all soaked in the pure joy of simply being together. The past was now behind us, and we turned our focus to enjoying the present moment. There was so much to share and to catch up on. We drank gallons of coffee and talked for hours which seemed to pass in just the blink of an eye.

We must have said goodbye and hugged half a dozen times before we could bring ourselves to leave. And we vowed to appreciate this rediscovered gift of family that we had been granted. Those few hours visiting with Aunt Sandy and Uncle Bob had taken a drained and emotionally exhausted person and rejuvenated both my body and soul.

It might seem very odd to think that the day I buried my mother was also one of the happiest days of my life, but it was. It was the day that I truly learned how to look for the silver lining. That day I became a believer. A silver lining can and does exist. I now see, very clearly, that it was time to say goodbye to my Mom. She needed to move on. But it was also a time to be reunited with Aunt Sandy and Uncle Bob because we were also meant to move on together, as a family.