Disclaimer: Some people (namely my husband) may not like this one. Sorry. I’m there and need to get past it.
Life is strange. We think it is a mystery, but the ending is no mystery at all. We die, we all die. We go, our parents go, God forbid, our children go. Everyone comes to an end. Right? Yet, the loss is always shocking and incredibly painful.
Sometimes those left behind are able to heal with “He/she is in a better place.” Our family says this about our dear pup, George, who died young this year. He wasn’t well and lived in physical pain. While we miss him, we are grateful he isn’t suffering.
Other times, a person’s death comes so suddenly, a hole seems to be literally torn in the universe. I don’t think we ever heal from that kind of loss.
If only this unfortunate part of life was a bit more like the movies. A plot so obvious, we would think, “Oh yeah, he’s gonna go.” So we say our goodbyes and move on.
But it’s not. Life is richer than that. We are relational beings. We bond our lives intricately to one another and feel the physical emptiness of absence. We live each day together hoping, believing we will live the next together as well.
If I were honest, I would admit there have been times I looked at my daughters, talked to my parents, or curled up with my husband and thought, “Who is going to go first?” “How would we go on if we lost this person?” I probably shouldn’t voice any of this, but it’s there, tormenting me with the fear of living without one another. And sometimes the fear is so overwhelming, I am scared to dig in and enjoy this life because one day I’ll have to let go.
But why burden others with such thoughts? I need to share my fear, bring it to light, diffuse that which is damaging and demoralizing.
A friend recently shared this encouraging blog post (actually the whole blog is beautiful) with these very wise words, “Fear seems to grow in the darkness of isolation. But when you expose it in the light of community, it tends to lose power.”
Friends, Community, you are light to me. My fears are exposed. I will not be lost in this isolation. I will wake tomorrow, grateful to God for another day, together.