And you might say - of course you will not. He died six weeks ago. And yet, I think there was a part of me holding my breath and somehow thinking that he was coming back. Later. How strange for someone as smart as me to not realize that death means - he is is not coming back. I will not hear him say "hey gang" or call me "honey." I will not feel his arms around me in a bear hug. And just writing this brings tears to me.
So I keep "grieving mindfully" and recording these thoughts and reliving these hard feelings. It is a real struggle.
I read some more this morning about learning from grief. And what I am really learning is how hard it is and how much like a circular staircase it really is. I live my day for the most part doing what needs to be done. Yesterday I went to the Kia dealership to get the facts and figures about buying my leased car and selling the second one. I don't yet know what to do, but I looked like a responsible adult when I talked to the car salesman. I had lunch with Kim and went to the grocery store and made some plans for the future. I am doing okay.
But then, going to bed and realizing that part of me is still not quite accepting the reality of what is here. It takes time, that is for sure and I am just in it and doing the best that I can.
The first noble truth in Buddhism is: "we all suffer and our suffering is natural." Through "Lojong" or "mind training" we can come to see our grief as a spiritual teacher. The author writes:
"you need to appreciate that most of your spiritual growth occurs not when you are at ease, comfortable in your life and your relationships, but when you are suffering,"
And so the invitation is to welcome hardship as a path to growth.
So here I am confronting my grief again as I start this day and sharing how sad and lost I continue to be and - as always - trusting that somehow God is at work in my mind, my spirit, my soul.
Healing.
I found this blessing "For Grief" by John O Donohue that perfectly expresses how it is:
When you lose someone you love,
Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you becomes fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence
Your heart has grown heavy with loss;
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one knows what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.
Flickers of guilt kindle regret
For all that was left unsaid or undone.
There are days when you wake up happy
Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you becomes fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence
Your heart has grown heavy with loss;
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one knows what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.
Flickers of guilt kindle regret
For all that was left unsaid or undone.
There are days when you wake up happy
Again inside the fullness of life,
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.
Days when you have your heart back,
You are able to function well
Until in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.
It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.
Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
To wean your eyes
From that gap in the air
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.
Days when you have your heart back,
You are able to function well
Until in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.
It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.
Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
To wean your eyes
From that gap in the air
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.
1 comment:
I know...I’m havkng that same stupid realization. It’s like I’m saying, “Okay. That’s enough. I get it..he died. But can Chuck please just come over? I wanna smell the fryer and listen to him rambling and watch him love on my kids.”
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