Recently, I read “Blue Nights” by Joan Didion. In my last post I referenced her “The Year of Magical Thinking” which was her exploration of the feelings she had following the passing of her husband John Gregory Dunne, which just so happened to coincide with the critical illness of her daughter Quintana Roo. “Blue Nights” was written as a reflection on both Quintana’s illness and passing as well as Didion’s own aging. I highly recommend both for anyone who needs a reminder that presence with loved ones is what is needed. Busy, distracted lives, rather than being in the now is ultimately what causes regret.
Book spoiler ahead:
Not unlike with “The Year of Magical Thinking”, Didion closes the book with a very memorable line. In “Blue Nights” it is a little more ambiguous than the other (Didion speaking of her daughter following her passing):
Yet, there is no day in her life on which I do not see her.
She was speaking to the feeling the reader might have that once her daughter had passed there was not anything left to lose. Her daughter was gone.
“No day in her life”
I thought a lot about this. It doesn’t matter if you take the lens of child, parent, spouse, sibling. Not just the days you are together, “no day.”
I have memories of my children. Some are in my mind. Sometimes I watch videos or look at pictures and wonder why they are not a memory. Then, sadly, I remember why.
I do know it is true I see my children in every day of their lives. More than that, I see my son every moment of his life. I see my daughter every moment of her life. I am not there every moment of their lives, but I see them.
The universal consciousness. The warmth of the sun on my son’s face, my daughter’s gentle laugh as she runs in a circle with no care in the world, the softness of the wind blowing through their air, the embrace from their mother.
I do not need to see it, I feel it. Every moment of every day.