Ten years.
A decade.
An often-measured amount of time.
Ahhh… “time”. It can seem so very finite. A minute is a minute, sixty seconds.
But here’s the thing, time can be quite relative depending on what you are doing. Holding your breath underwater? A minute can feel like an hour. Watching your favorite singer perform? An hour can feel like a minute.
Ten years and a week that never leaves
Ten years ago, Molly was living the last week of her life. Her final Monday through Friday were lived without me.
I was in Europe. In Amsterdam. With Roy.
I was not with Molly. I was not with Gracie. I was not with Kenny.
My Facebook memories taunt me.
Oh, did I mention? I am in Europe. In France. With Kenny, Jack, and Gracie.
Ten years. A decade.
France, Gracie, and the life that kept going
Gracie had just turned 15. There was not yet any talk of Disney. There were just Molly/Gracie plans, and a lot of them. Jack did not exist. There was no plan for a “Jack” whatsoever.
Gracie’s “post Molly dying” journey has been nothing short of stunning. She could have just given up. She could have stopped living. She could have just dissolved into a sea of grief. Instead, she learned to swim in it. She found a surfboard and learned to float in whatever sea presented itself on any given day. She learned to live in a world she did not ask for.
She is working at Disneyland Paris now. She is a performer, helping to bring the magic of Queen Anna to life. She spends her days in Arendelle with Elsa sharing the love.
Life is slower and more purposeful in France. It is beautiful here. It is walkable here.
As she navigates turning 25 and feels like her childhood is disappearing, she is also incorporating European culture into her daily routine. She is amazing.
We are here for a week. We will spend a total of three days at the park; we will spend a day or two in Paris. Unlike my 2016 trip with Roy, which was all preplanned down to the millisecond with no flexibility, we are letting the days unfold. As we conclude day four, with five days ahead of us, I am feeling the release of the exhaustion I carry.
My mother is not here.
We are actually in France, which came to life through more of the usual “planning and preparation” chaos that precedes most of our travel. I often say, “It is time for me to make a change”, and yet, here we are again.
I will just leave that there.
I am physically quite unfit (for me), I am sore, stiff and quite overweight. I am angry.
I have spent much of my time quietly repeating, “in with the good, out with the bad” as I attempt to use breathing as a stress reducer.
Let me be clear, the beauty of the French countryside. The decidedly European architecture. The crisp clean air and bright sun. The warm temperatures. The food!
All of it heals me. All of it reminds me of past visits. Amsterdam, Switzerland, Germany, Austria. Most of these trips occurred this very week.
The end of April. School vacation week. The beginning of May and the journey to summer.
A moment and an eternity
We fly home on May first. The ER Day. The tumor exploding day. The beginning of “Death Week” Day.
We survive May now. Hospitals and Life Support Removal. A Family Funeral at a cemetery. MollyB the Musical at a theater. Food, visits, letters, donations, tributes.
Then…..
Life without Molly.
Ten years. In just three years she’ll have been gone as long as she was here.
We’ll cross that bridge in three years. It will get here in a moment and an eternity.
That’s “time” in my life right now.
A lifetime in a split second.
Always without Molly.
2 Responses
Beautifully written. Even in the midst of your grief, the mix of emotions, the good and bad memories, I am glad you, Kenny & Jack were able to spend this past week with Gracie, watching her in her element. Molly may have never physically gone to France or Disney, but you all carry her in your hearts and she’s never far from your minds, therefore, wherever you go, she is still with you, just in a different way. I know you fear her fading away as time ticks on, but Molly will never be forgotten, her life and her death made a difference and touched many lives. “Purpose fulfilled”. Love you Barb!
Molly’s memory will always be eternal 💖