Missing

A special guest post by Joan’s Aunt Teri

How can you miss someone that you never really knew?

It’s simple.

As a teacher, I sometimes forget to take attendance at the beginning of class.  However, I eventually, or sometimes immediately, feel a sense that someone is absent.   It could be the class clown, the girl who is always on her iPhone, or the quietest kid in the class. In a panic, I glance at the class roster.  Their absence is palpable. It is in the air, it is on your skin.

Someone is missing.

This feeling often takes over at family gatherings. A sneaking feeling that someone is not there; that a part of the whole is missing.  This sixth sense has greatly intensified after the birth of Vivian, Joan’s little sister.  Every milestone, everything Vivian does, reminds me of what Joan would have done.

With Vivian, there have been so many Firsts: First Smile, First Laugh, First Steps, First Everything.  I wonder about having had these Firsts with Joan.  She was also the First Born, a position which I would have shared with her.  

I am reminded of Missing, a song by Arcadia, a side project of 80’s supergroup Duran Duran. As cliché as it sounds, the lyrics in this song did not mean much to me until after Joan’s birth. [I always try to say her birth, not death; which tragically were one and the same.]

I thought I saw you smile

But now I don't see you anywhere

Whispering your love song in my ear

how can you touch me

when you're not really here?

Yes, Joan.  You touch us always, even though you are not here.

So, how can you miss someone that you never really knew?

It’s simple.