Like reflections of your mind, my love, my life, Are the words I try to find, my love, my life, But I know I don’t possess you, With all my heart, God bless you, You are still my love and my life. – ABBA, Benny Andersson
Ever since the kids were old enough, we went to the movies for a bucket of popcorn and two hours of a good story. In the early years, we watched Pixar and Disney, gradually branching out as they grew. Doug insisted we never miss a Star Wars movie. I’m convinced musical scores drew my son to his music major, and my daughter still loves a strong female lead.
In the months before Doug died, she and I watched the first Mamma Mia. Meryl Streep’s joy de vivre called to her. The soundtrack enlivened morning trips to school, with Super Trouper a favorite. For a few minutes, we could belt out the tune in the safety of the car, smile, and have a little fun before drop-off.
Of course, we wanted to see the sequel which came out later that summer, after Doug died. It was light and breezy and over the top. But I was not expecting the serious tugging at the heartstrings which involved Streep and her on-screen daughter. My Love, My Life instantly started the tears. As the kids grow, it rings even truer. Past reflections fill my heart and mind, as do hopes for beautiful moments to come.
I have the privilege of loving them across the entirety of their lives for as long as my life lasts. They are our best gifts. To quote from a children’s book we read many times, I will always be their open arms, while they have been a running leap into a depth of love unimaginable before they were born.
And yet, their story will be their own. I know I don’t possess you, so with all my heart, God bless you. It is your journey. I am blessed to be on it with you. With my whole heart, I know your Dad is watching and guiding and cheering too.
Grief, Reflected 