Dragonfly Walk: A Tale of Finding Contentment After Loss

By Katie Gilbert

This book is about the unthinkable happening, the domino effect of different circumstances that resulted and how one person found another expression of life.. an expansion of understanding, compassion for others but for herself also. It is a book about finding parts of herself and others that she didn’t know existed, some dark but others light. A passage that has led her to understand that light and colour can be expressed more vividly if one is willing to look into the darkness. It is a story of strength, weakness, beauty, ugliness, community, friendship and isolation, sorrow and joy. But most of all this is a story about love, the authentic kind… the substance to all that is.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Sep 27, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728393391

Katie Gilbert

I live on the coast with my son who will shortly be embarking on a new adventure in University. I have been privileged to meet many different people over the course of my life and career. People have been my passion always, along with an ever growing understanding of Spirit and how I can allow the flow of grace through every part of my existence including my relationships. Always learning.

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© 2019 Katie Gilbert. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  09/19/2019

ISBN: 978-1-7283-9340-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-9339-1 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Prologue

The Religious backdrop

The start

A wish come true…

Medicine or poison?

The last trip to Germany

In the doctor’s office, Max asked so you going to operate? the answer was no.

Leaving our family home

Wednesday 10th November

November 18th

The Emptiness

Damn Diversions!

Having survived one battle…

Love’s absence

The annulment

PART 3

Deeper into the underworld

Graham

Oliver

Intimacy

Festival time… flowers in her hair!

La isla bonita

Eaten up by grief

Another twin?

22

And now for a whole new lesson….

SHE!

Am I dying?

Letters of forgiveness

Co-Dependence

Love had my back again

More letters!

The fullness of time

Having said that….

New Chapters… new adventures

Present but not Concluded…

Prologue

I watched the life going out of my life partner, soul mate, husband and that is when my existence stopped, froze in time. Little did I know that’s where I’d be for a considerable time. Almost as if, myself as I knew me died along with him.

Even then, a mixture of hope, holding a new beginning was very much part of me, part of my will to survive and flourish even in the future… unless a seed falls into the ground… This mixed with an overwhelming empty space that I was certainly not ready to feel a small percentage of. It was inconceivable.

For those that were around me at the time; mercy…. I was numb. My Be strong Push through narratives.. part of my story always; these were held in place forming a huge shield. Underneath was a soft belly, vulnerable to wounding from any source, particularly those who loved me and dared to be around me at the time. I needed to be alone but also yearning for that closeness and intimacy that I had lost. Touch in the form of hugs, cuddles, kisses is antidote to empty words in such a pain. I am thankful in some way that the shield was in place, in that there was a natural cushioning to allow me to feel bit by bit as the years have gone by. To feel it all in one go would have been devastating to me and to our son.

It is now four and a half years, and as I’m writing this, that pain is acute, like a big hot poker right in my heart… and yes, I would in an instant, given the opportunity, jump at the chance to look into those black eyes, to hold and be held by that familiar embrace, breathe in his scent… I see his hands the most, in my mind’s eye. He had beautiful hands.

The other truth is that I find a level in my life right now, a deep contentment in who I am, where I am right now, an expanded compassion and acceptance for people in general. This sandwiched between hopes and dreams for the future and grief that relates to the past but is part of me, part of our son. It is ever present; ever fused with the essence of who we are and who we will become. I understand so much now that I was very much unaware of. I know that many who read this will connect deeply with what I am saying. I am not suggesting that I am the only one to have experienced loss. To lose something, someone, a part of yourself that has existential quality has a deeply enriching effect as well as the obvious pain experienced at the loss…. unless a seed falls into the ground… Could it be that pain is a necessary ingredient to feeling fully alive?! To growing? I can relate to this.

We were together for twenty years. Half the time I’ve been breathing on this planet, in fact…. roughly. I was a nineteen year old girl when I met him. I grew into a woman in his presence, assisted and influenced by our relationship together. Enjoying the safety and security his love offered. It was the same for him. He’d tell you that now if he could. Both of us adapted and moulded to each other… it sounds a cliché, but love was the strong cord that kept us together. We were different in many ways, not perfect, not all rosy…. but essentially the same. Essentially passionate about each other and about our lives.

It’s the very small things when all is said and done that make the difference. For instance; I loved the way he got goose bumps on his face and arms, his hair standing on end! When he sang along to a love song, sung with all his heart to me…. I miss his expression…… I miss his goose bumps. I’m thankful that I have learned that the small things are the greatest through his death but also regret not understanding that sooner. I forgive myself for that. I know that would be asking the impossible.

Life is so different for me now. A very peaceful and contented existence… other than, even as I write, our son is singing and playing his guitar next room with that same passion and volume! His Dad would be so proud! I hope somehow he can hear him. I think it would be terribly unfair not for him to see what a beautiful, grounded and talented person our son has become.

It saddens me that our son doesn’t experience his Dad’s approval. There is no but, no words that could fix the situation. It is as it is. What can never be taken away is the hope, the light that resides inside me. I see it in our son also. A steely, one track purpose of living and loving with the complete spectrum of colour, emotions, human experience that echoes the divine, in all aspects. Even in death and loss. In the darkest places, jewels are found of every colour of the rainbow. The riches of the Earth are to be sought out… they’re begging to be found.

To have experienced that love in my life I would not exchange for any thing that could be offered me… To have known it enriches me from the inside out. I know in the pit of my stomach that I have courage, not because I jumped, attached to some bungee, off a bridge of great heights (not that there’s anything wrong with that); I know that without doubt, my heart is enlarged and fleshy! Able to be generous.. not because I have accumulated great wealth… as yet…; but because the love that was experienced tangibly between us, Max and I, has the strength to endure. It does not diminish because he has left the Earth in the body he lived in, rather it increases, it deepens, it is enriched as time goes by. It’s a strange outcome to imagine that there is more love in me than ever…treasures to be drawn on yes! But treasures that will shine their multi-coloured beams at will, and bring warmth to my very existence and hopefully to those who I meet.

This book is the story of my journey for want of another word! I used to cringe when I heard people saying that before…But it is and has been a time of great transforming steps fuelled by a figurative landslide. My hope is that you will find inspiration, hope in these pages. I’ve been as truthful as I know how to about the events and more importantly the people.. relationships. They have been complex at times but have been fruitful in growing towards being the woman I have become. For that I am most grateful. If you are one of these people and see yourself in these pages, I trust that you will pick up on the immutable fact that you have been nourishing to me despite what happened. Part of me, part of what I offer to the world today.

As for a dedication: To the man who gave me so much. More than I could ever have imagined.

Your task is not to seek for love, but merely

To seek and find all the barriers within

Yourself that you have built against it.

- Rumi

I was in one of my favourite postures; sat on the steps watching an alchemist at work! Max was concocting something special again! The smells rising from the six ring stove were absolutely glorious! He put in another sprinkle of some herb or another and gave his usual sideways wink that made you think you were in on some well kept secret. I remembered why I loved this giant of a man! My heart swelling with pride and joy of our simple life together. Mambo No. 5 playing on the stereo, Max wiggled his hips as he stirred the masterpiece in the pot. I would tease him about his dancing style which would start a mutual firing of one liners to each other which would inevitably end in a chase off around the kitchen table; me squealing with delight at getting away just in time, both of us weak with laughter until I’d let him catch me. Either that or Max would stub his toe complaining that he always comes off worse which made me laugh all the harder until I’d give cuddles to acknowledge his wounded toe! It would always end in cuddles. Even the most fiery arguments! Us two had enormous respect for each other and never resorted to name calling for instance. I’d say now, that respect is bigger entity in a successful relationship when compared to love. But, we loved passionately. Each other. Something that was seen by all who came into contact with us.

With that, our darling Sam would come hurtling down the stairs complete with Schnitzel, our beloved family dog and close companion of Sam, they would both arrived smiling from ear to ear; inseparable… no-one came in between this boy and his dog. Mum, can I go next door please? Lucy’s making chocolate cake. But I’m making dinner! chipped in Max, Pleeeease Dad…?. Go on then Max smiled; Don’t eat cake! he shouted as the front door slammed shut. Wow! You really showed him who’s boss! I’d laugh. Max turned down the heat on the stove; Half an hour alone with my woman helped me to be flexible; he grinned as he came at me with strong embrace. In these moments, there was nothing else in life required.

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I am Kate Corsentino. The name is Italian due to marrying an Italian with an extreme lust for life and an accent to go with! Although he reckoned that since moving to the UK, he’d lost his Italian accent which makes me laugh so much! I’m not kidding, he sounded so Italian, it was as if he was putting it on!

I’ve enjoyed a nice, normal life in many respects not devoid of the challenges along the way just like the next person but despite being most content with the life myself and Max had carved out together, there was always a deep longing for more! An inner knowing that there was more to me; a part or parts even of me that were yet to be seen, to be discovered. Max was 13 years older than me, I was just 19 when I met him and although living in a bedsit on my own already, my own adventures perhaps had been undiscovered. Perhaps this was part of the yearning I felt. Max had done a lot of his adventuring in a previous life before I had met him. He had many tales to tell, tall stories! Including trips to different countries, brushes with the law; he was no angel in his younger days! He told me about many different people he had met along the way. He’d even become part of a showbiz, dancing singing crowd whilst in Milan and brushed shoulders with celebrities… Italian celebrities that is. I loved to hear all about the stories! He had ridden motorbikes touring complete areas; stopping to camp out or stay with newly made friends along the way. He told me about the foods he had eaten, the places he had seen but mostly about the friendships he formed. Max had had a very difficult family life as a child which caused us both tears on occasions. He struggled even as an adult with painful memories of brutal beatings from his father, most of which he kept quiet about if it wasn’t for my persistence and digging to find out about his private thought world. I’ve always been like that, bit of a pain in the arse I’m sure to some, but I guess I’ve always had a drive to know people more intimately, form strong connections. Even to this day it’s the thing that drives me more than anything else. I need to know inside and out if someone is willing to share, if not that’s ok too but I feel there is a lot to be gained in this kind of rich connection with a person. Oh and I am more than willing to give of myself too, share with you anything you want to know. I love it when people are interested in me of course! But Max and his brother and his mum in fact, had gone through a certain kind of hell in their young lives with a narcissistic, angry man as their Dad. I would like to tell you a few of those stories of what my darling Max suffered as a child because for one I think it’s really important to bare in mind that you never know what is going on in people’s lives, why they might be a little withdrawn or hot headed, loners… whatever the case may be. As Max’s lover and then wife, I soon discovered that sometimes he would change from a very sociable, animated and warm creature to withdrawn, thoughtful. In those times in our young lives together that’s all I knew is that I was being shut out but as we grew together, understood the stories behind our funny ways that was no longer the case. I too had my furbles! Insecurities and sadness that Max loved me through; we had each other’s back. What we offered each other was deep love, belonging, respect and stability along with a strong desire to share our lives together.

I will tell you some of the stories that stick out in my mind that he painfully told me over the course of our years together. Might I add without drama or a craving for attention, but just in a kind of matter of fact way. He still had time for his Dad up until the very end. That’s the measure of the man I married. So here goes..

One time, Max and his brother had been left in the house on their own, Max thought he was about six years old. It was an odd occasion where there was no baby sitter and there was a half hour gap until his Mum came in from work. He recalled that his Dad had threatened him to be good in that period. Anyway, within that half hour or so, Max and his slightly younger brother had noticed that there were fleas on their pet kitten, so having some kind of experience of seeing someone squirting the tomato plants with DDT to kill unwanted crawling insects, they went down to the basement to retrieve the pesticide to sort out this flea problem. Unfortunately as you might have already guessed, this was a very bad idea and the kitten became distressed as the pesticide burned her skin, so their idea was to hold her in the toilet bowl and flush it to get the pesticide off. The mind of children trying to solve a problem! Just as they were trying to rectify the poor kitten’s distress, their father came in and saw what they were dong. He said nothing to them other than; leave the kitten, I will sort it out, go in the lounge. Max remembered that he felt terrified even though his father had not made a fuss; he and his brother sat quietly waiting in the lounge until his father called them into the bathroom where before they could see anything, they were grabbed by the man by their clothing at the back of their necks and submerged into a bath full of water, being held down until they could