My concept of time has changed dramatically since Roger's death. I never know just quite how to explain the reality of time dragging on second by second and rushing by quicker than I can process, all simultaneously. That day feels like forever ago. The day before, though, just happened...
I won't say that we decided to go take his ashes to Ireland. "Decided" is the wrong verb; we knew instantly it was something we had to do. The moment the words, "I guess we're going to Ireland" escaped my brother-in-law's lips was ages ago. So much life has already happened between that moment and this. Our evening trip for the first spreading of ashes was surely far more than just 4 days ago. But in the same, our time in Ireland has flown by, as have the months of re-learning to be me.
Far from a vacation, this trip has been difficult, emotionally draining, and not at all the way I would ever want to visit a country. Nonetheless, as our trip comes to a close, I can honestly not imagine a more perfect and appropriate way to say our final goodbyes than amidst family, the beauty of Ireland, and the truth that Roger is exactly where he wanted to be, though not at all in the capacity we once imagined.
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