One of my favorite quotes from the book was "Loss sometimes feels like encountering a strange place in a familiar landscape." She is a therapist and she writes about her clients telling her that one of the things their grief has changed for them is their expectations. She goes on to say how people had expectations of a paticular future with their loved ones, and now they don't. And they are, understandably sad about this.
That's a very big part of the reason this particular quote on "trust" spoke to me. I had expectations that I would outlive all three of my children. I had hopes and dreams for my son. And now, not only do I have to let go of the hopes and dreams, I no longer have his physical presence in my day to day life.
My own grief swells and then settles down. That is the way it will be for a long time. Lately, the permanence of his physical absence has weighed down on me.
I'm only saying these things as facts and as an admonition to make the most of your present moments. As we all know, but often tend to try and ignore, none of us is guaranteed more than our present breath. Probably no one needs to be reminded of this more than I do at this moment.
(Trust was my verb for last week. I am late for my own deadline, as usual.)
I cannot even begin to imagine. I have always just assumed that I would watch my children grow and mature and live their lives. I can never say that I understand what you feel. I do not and cannot. The selfish part of me is so glad I cannot understand. I know you will not take that as mean....you will understand.
ReplyDeleteDid you know that, because of you...I am working harder at my bucket list and living in the moment? Yes Ma'am...because of you.
XoXo i love you so much
Thanks, Mindy! Given your recent experiences, you might understand a little more about loss. I am glad you are working harder on your bucket list! You very often inspire me!
DeleteBeautifully spoken Diane.. and reminds us, me too... to be here now. Because now is all we have. I "know" my own losses in my life, and like you for reasons unknown, they heave and loom large casting long and dark shadows over me and I sometimes turn away.. looking for the light that was there and seems to be dim or missing. This has happened a lot lately. It's okay, it only means I need to pay attention, not so much to them, but myself and my own life and what I am doing.
ReplyDeletethank you for the beautiful reminder..
I only want to say again.. I cannot begin to fathom your loss. ANd we have drawn tight and have found something of ourselves through you in this. You are brave and have great courage. You may not feel or see, but we do.
<3
Thanks, Lori. I think you are very brave and courageous in facing your losses. You've had too many to face, it seems to me, but of course, I am not the one in charge!
DeleteYes, that's just how it is. I had plans, and now I don't. We share that. I will look for that book. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteAnd slowly, we will accept that our plans now have to be different. It's a tough thing, but I believe we are both up to the task!
DeleteLife remains, for all of us, a mystery, a walk not just through the veil, but "in" the veil, there being very little that we can determine with any real sense of assuredness. It takes, I think, "a mile in the other guy's shoes" to even begin to understand his or her experience, all of us individual in who we are and how we react; and yet we can be "there" for one another if we are willing to simply listen and take the next step together....
ReplyDeleteBeing there for others, and them being there for us, is a really big thing, Jim, even when we know we can't possibly understand their particular pain. I'm grateful for all who have stood with me in my grief and I hope to be aware enough to be able to stand with others in theirs.
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