Look harder
Article published in Northampton Living
(March 2021)
EXPERT CONTRIBUTOR
ROBERT ZUCKER
Grief Counselor, Consultant and Trainer
Consulting for the Journey
+1 413 695 4572
robzucker@gmail.com
robertzucker.com
A couple approached me while out walking this morning to ask if I’d look out for a missing dog named Bongo whose owner hoped he might show up on our trail. This got me thinking of the times I’ve looked for my own missing pets. Our cat Georgie, for instance, often slipped away for days at a time. He invariably returned home unscathed but for a few scars on his ear, or a matted coat of fur. Once our poodle, Mia, headed off the trail on Mt. Tom, and was gone for hours. Eventually she magically re-appeared, smiling and eager to return home. But of course, sometimes our furry friends are never seen again, and we grieve.
Later I ran into Bongo’s person who had fashioned a flyer with his photo, hoping that others would join in the search. Seeing her sad eyes, I remembered when, four years earlier, my first wife whispered in my right ear, imploring me to look harder. Her call to action felt particularly poignant since she’d been dead for over a month. So I dutifully wrote down her words on a scrap of paper and pinned them on a wall in my office alongside an altar I kept in her memory. Look harder, she told me. Listen deeply, more than you’ve ever looked or listened before. You can do it. There’s more going on here than easily meets the eye.
Since my dad’s funeral, almost fifty years ago, he’s been leaving me messages. Like my first wife, he sometimes talks to me. Once he woke me out of a sound sleep shouting my name. Last month, while going through a box of treasures that Mom left behind after her recent death, I discovered a hand-written letter Dad wrote to Mom - a love letter from her fifty-four year old husband during a week-long separation, expressing his love and his longing to see, touch and hold his wife.
Dad’s letter reveals a side of him I never knew while he was alive. But when I look harder at it, I see a small window into my parent’s private, loving, passionate relationship. And by looking even harder still, I understand that finding the letter was no accident. It came to me just a few days after I married my second wife, Teresa. I like to believe that my parents conspired to celebrate our new found love by providing a glimpse into the love they kept alive for 25 years. And although Mom never stopped living and loving after Dad’s death, she always kept their flame of love going.
Of course I hope Bongo comes home. But if he never finds his way back, I know his person will always love him. The love we have for our pets and our parents, our partners and our children is neverending. And if we look and listen harder and more deeply for subtle messages, we’ll discover again and again that love is everlasting.
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