Once upon a time, one of my sisters said to me, "You are the kindest person I have ever known." It was out of the ordinary for such a display of openness and love.
Years later, I have the motion picture of that experience in my memory. I use it often when I am feeling less than kind. Less than lovable. Less than part of anything. Less than zero...
There is comfort in knowing of people who spent their lives being kind, loving, generous and genuinely doing the best they could to offer love, dignity, and acceptance. Even when faced with those that would choose to purposefully hurt them, they continued to be consistent and true to those actions.
As well, there is a knowing that when we are kind and generous of heart, we will be hurt. Those that would hurt us are those that are so very broken and sick, that they would rather see others suffer and ease their own pain in some twisted way.
Kindness and Understanding. We can choose to use this gift for the sole purpose of showing the world that there are such things. I choose to be kind. I choose to be understanding.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Grieving The Death Of The Living
For several years, I have been living in a sort of limbo. A state of being that I believed would pass and that 'life as I knew it' would somehow return to me. Through these years, I have grown in ways that I thought impossible. Grieved in ways that are completely foreign to me. Let go of ideals and beliefs that I had clung to with every ounce of my being; interwoven since birth.
And yet, when there is a death of someone who is indeed part of your actual being, and they are still alive on the earth, it is beyond comprehension. It rips to the very core of me. As if the earth stops spinning, and the heat from the sun burns away all the flesh to expose the inner most delicate pieces of my soul. My heart still beating. My heart is still beating. My heart is still beating. My heart.
When we grieve for those that have left the earth, there is a knowing of the finality of them. Their human form is forever gone and it allows us to at some point understand that our season with them has come to a close. Grieving is accepted and in some cases nurtured by those around us. Grieving is expected. And we learn to live on, without that person or people in our world. We know. It is not possible to see them, speak to them, reach out to them, hold them, touch them. It is the end.
For those that we love, have loved and continue to love, who still exist on earth. Roaming around as though they are fully human, but are a mere shell of what we believed them to be. Their death is one of the hardest to comprehend. How do you come to terms with this death. Grieving is not expected, accepted or nurtured. Let it go. Forget. Get over it. Move on. My heart is still beating. My heart is beating. My heart.
When is it enough and when do I accept that this is the "TRUTH"? When do I understand they are in fact dead. The sweet, vibrant, amazing, loving person, is not. They are dead.
My heart and my brain cannot communicate this language to each other. My brain is screaming at me! My heart is beating and aching and squeezing and part of it has died. My brain keeps screaming! My heart is still beating. My heart.
No more longing for the "life as I knew it". Let the grief come hard and fast. Let the waves of complete abandon wash over me. May I be cleansed of the living dead. May I please have peace.
Grieving the death of the living.
And yet, when there is a death of someone who is indeed part of your actual being, and they are still alive on the earth, it is beyond comprehension. It rips to the very core of me. As if the earth stops spinning, and the heat from the sun burns away all the flesh to expose the inner most delicate pieces of my soul. My heart still beating. My heart is still beating. My heart is still beating. My heart.
When we grieve for those that have left the earth, there is a knowing of the finality of them. Their human form is forever gone and it allows us to at some point understand that our season with them has come to a close. Grieving is accepted and in some cases nurtured by those around us. Grieving is expected. And we learn to live on, without that person or people in our world. We know. It is not possible to see them, speak to them, reach out to them, hold them, touch them. It is the end.
For those that we love, have loved and continue to love, who still exist on earth. Roaming around as though they are fully human, but are a mere shell of what we believed them to be. Their death is one of the hardest to comprehend. How do you come to terms with this death. Grieving is not expected, accepted or nurtured. Let it go. Forget. Get over it. Move on. My heart is still beating. My heart is beating. My heart.
When is it enough and when do I accept that this is the "TRUTH"? When do I understand they are in fact dead. The sweet, vibrant, amazing, loving person, is not. They are dead.
My heart and my brain cannot communicate this language to each other. My brain is screaming at me! My heart is beating and aching and squeezing and part of it has died. My brain keeps screaming! My heart is still beating. My heart.
No more longing for the "life as I knew it". Let the grief come hard and fast. Let the waves of complete abandon wash over me. May I be cleansed of the living dead. May I please have peace.
Grieving the death of the living.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Family. Fleeting Time. Love.
Family
Here is how it works...
Mom and Dad are blessed with the gift of children. In my family there are four daughters.
Mom- SMART! Kind. Generous. Sensitive and loving. Mother. Sister. Daughter.
Cathy- SMART! Super artistic. Sensitive and loving. Mother. Sister. Daughter.
Barbara- SMART! Bold and strong. Sensitive and loving. Mother. Sister. Daughter.
Nancy- SMART! Me. Sensitive and loving. Mother. Sister. Daughter.
Melissa- SMART! A Force. Sensitive and loving. Sister. Daughter.
When we are little, our parents do their very best with the information they learned; no guide book.
When we are growing, our parents do their very best with their experiences; no guide book.
When we are grown, our parents love us and keep doing their very best as we continue to make our way in the world.
When we are grown, we use the same information to be good daughters, sisters, mothers and people.
It is our responsibility to be more loving.
It is our responsibility to grow wiser with our knowledge and experience.
It is our choice to be a family.
We are all separate and unique individuals with a common thread.
We are all given the very fleeting gift of time.
It is our choice how we use it.
Dad is gone. The gift of time was more fleeting and 20 years has passed. I miss him more each day. His smile, his laugh, his adventurous ways, his childlike wonder, his generosity, his gift of gab, his stories, his flaws, his unwavering love.
The gift of time is finite. I miss his presence in my life.
Our Mom is here. I love her laugh, her smile, her loving and caring ways, her generosity, her stories, her beautiful spirit, her flaws and her unwavering love.
The gift of time is finite. Soak in her being here now.
Family.
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