There is a road I travel periodically in my life. It isn’t one I seek. It appears as a detour (one I have to take), sometimes with warning, and sometimes unexpectedly.

The detour sign appeared again last night and I am back on the road of bereavement.

I am sad, but also not. No unfinished business to haunt me, much love shared, our closing words on a recent phone call after laughing and talking – “luv yu!”

When the unexpected occurs, that’s a good space to find yourself in.

My heart is heavy for others who will miss him, and for a small few who may not have reconciled with him. I know – he told me – that there was no animosity held in his heart. A good space for him to leave from. No regrets, content.

And yet, so unexpected…

The detour I’m on isn’t unfamiliar. It’s not a road I avoid, because we all end up on the road of bereavement. Whether our version of the road is beautiful (and it can be!), or full of pot holes and barriers, is up to us.

That’s not to say it doesn’t hurt, or that it’s sappy hearts, cherubs, and heavenly choirs. It’s a road that we share, though it is still an experience where we are uniquely alone because it is uniquely our own.

Farewell, my friend. One day there will be another road that presents itself – another road I can’t avoid – but you will be there to welcome me and that road we can walk along together.

For Justin. With Love.