Skip to main content

Is that death in the mirror?

So I took a walk this evening and it didn't take long before I began to notice the things around me.  I could feel the warm air on my skin and yet the heat of the day had subsided. As I walked past our neighbor's house, I was drawn to a pine cone sitting on the edge of their yard.  I picked it up and began to examine it... intricate layers, precise and predictable, becoming less organized and polished as it became larger and the tip bent and scraped by the ravages of time and nature. Then the pecan that lay in the gutter crushed by the passing cars, the dry fallen leaves on the sidewalk twisted and crumpled. The delicate balance of our own existence mirrored in the substance of nature. We believe nature to be so powerful, so resilient, just like we think our lives and our bodies are....but truly nature is fragile, mercurial and unpredictable, just like our lives. We expect to experience pattern and course to nature...winter, spring, summer, fall; and to life...birth, childhood, coming of age,  love, marriage, children, grandchildren, death, but these are not guarantees.  Nature can be fickle, it can fool us and quickly, unexpectedly become violent and ravenous.  Life is the same, there are no promises in life, none.

So my thoughts turned to God and to faith.  I trudged up the hill beginning to break a sweat and I thought, why is it through all of this I still have faith, that I still love my God, that I am confident that my son is basking in the joy of eternal life, that upon death I too will pass to the glory of heaven? Hebrews 11:1 states, "Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."   Life is not meant to be perfect, it's not meant to be free from sorrow; to the contrary, life's very nature is to be temporary and rife with conflict.  Perhaps that is what makes the thought of heaven so captivating. The great paradox of life is that it is married to death, full of joy and celebration and equally full of grieving and sorrow, expectation and hope are counterbalanced by stolen dreams and dispair.  If we allow our fears, our sorrows and uncertainies to get in the way of living, of experiencing joy and seeing the unique beauty of the world, then we've lost more than death can ever take from us.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Shrines

People have amassed shrines for years.   In Prague there is a wall dedicated to John Lennon; flowers and photos adorn the gates of Princess Diana’s home in London; an eternal flame shines for the unknown soldier; Shinto shrines celebrate wind, rain, mountains, trees and rivers; we bury our dead and mark the grave with a headstone….we want a marker of those things valuable and important to us.   That is how we feel about our dead children; we don’t want our children to be forgotten, we must remember them, others must remember them.   My son's boots are my shrine to him.   His boots are the only thing left from his accident.   They sit there, worn but whole, and I see him, I think of him, I remember him, I love him.   His boots do that for me….they create an instant recall of him, his person, his character, his life. Don’t tell me to put the boots away, don’t tell me that is it unhealthy to hold on to things that recall his memory…it is...

Hunger

There is a vast void in my heart right now; just emptiness.  I can't seem to collect my thoughts or make sense of much of anything.  I don't have any desires, no wishes, no hopes, just a body devoid of life.  It's like when you open the refrigerator and it's full of food and there is nothing in there you want to eat, so you shut the door and walk away yearning for something to satiate your hunger.  I'm hungry and I know there is plenty of food out there to ease my hunger, but I don't want any of it. Yes, at times I can laugh and smile at things in life and I believe it is essential to embrace this life for what it is....embrace those you love, laugh with those who entertain you, cry with those who need comfort, and dance with those who celebrate. It hurts to embrace it, but it also comforts, it is the ultimate paradox.  I receive comfort from helping others who are experiencing pain or grief, there is something palatable about being able to empathyze...

God Moment

I was thinking of when I created this blog and named it.... Living with Loss, I knew I would have to live with this loss, but at that time I wasn't living, I was surviving. It was a goal of sorts… but also a mission to keep breathing. It is only now, over six years since the death of my son that I have begun to know how to live again. The sharpness of those first months and years have softened and the pangs of grief strike less frequently, though when they do they rage with vengeance. What a journey of emotion these past six and half years have been from overwhelming and consuming grief, disbelief and shock, depression and fear, finally acceptance and the incorporation of the loss into our lives.  I remember in the first months after Wyatt's death, I would walk through the house and tell myself he had gone on a very long trip to a place far, far away. He was unable to contact me and I unable to contact him. I later learned counselors think this is a poor method for ...