Personal Musings: Grief and the Passage of Time

It's hard to believe it's been almost 2 1/2 years since my mother passed away. A few days ago I had to convert it into days and discovered that it had been 892 days.  892 days!  That really puts things into perspective. There were countless times I thought I wouldn't be able to make it through another day, let alone nearly 900 days.  There were days when everything felt like a dream, and days when everything felt like a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. Days when I was terribly restless, and days when I didn't want to get out of bed at all.  Days when I couldn't stop ruminating over what I had lost, and days when I was grateful for what I still had.  Days when God felt especially close, and many other days when God seemed nowhere to be found.  And yet, here I am.  Whether it's for the better or for the worse, I'm still standing.  

I feel like I've been through as much change in my life since the start of COVID than in the 43+ years before the pandemic started.  I'm sure many other people feel the same way, even if it might feel a little exaggerated. Time feels like it has accelerated. Many of us are no longer the same people we were before this all started.  It reminds me of a joke someone posted:  "Can we all admit that in 2019, when we were asked the question: 'Where do you see yourself in 5 years?' that we all got the wrong answer?"  How many of us thought we would be where we are today?  Many of us have endured horrible losses and trials over these last few years. So much of what gave our lives some sense of stability and predictability has been yanked away from us.  It's a good reminder to all of us to not take anything in our lives for granted.  At the same time, it's so important to remember that none of us can predict the future.  Who knows what tomorrow will bring?  With that, we all need to be focused on the day we have before us.

Personal Musings: Reunions and Death

Jeff Mara interviewed author and spiritual mystic Hans Wilhelm on his podcast, and Wilhelm had this to say:

"If you have a wonderful pet [like a] dog...and you love that dog more than anything else, you cannot take that dog to college, even if it would be a comfort dog.  So, no, there is a reason why you suddenly go to college away from the comfort of your family, and suddenly facing all the new life totally on your own.  To grow, we have to be away on our own here, because the path is a path within..."

I think I might have mentioned in a previous post -- when our loved ones leave this world, it's almost like they're "graduating" from this earthly life.  I think of how parents sometimes cry when their children graduate from school, because it's the end of a major life chapter for everyone involved.  And I think of how we cannot join our loved ones after they've died, at least not for a while, anyway.  And it can be really hard.

But I think how I've reunited with friends from school -- some of whom I hadn't been in contact with for many years after graduation.  And when we do meet again, it feels like we "picked up right where we left off,"  in spite of the passage of time.  I wonder if it will feel that way again when we leave this world to join our loved ones who have gone on before us...

Words of Comfort: from the Spirituality Subreddit

I was browsing on the Spirituality subreddit on Reddit some months back.  The poster, who was grieving the loss of her mother from last year, asked about what happens to our souls when we die.  I liked the words from this one commenter in particular:

"I like to think of life here on Earth as an amusement park ride for souls. Your mom's soul was in the car (body) in front of you and the ride ended for her and she's waiting at the exit for you. When the ride ends for you you'll talk and laugh about it and get a churro and figure out what ride to go on next."

Books That Have Helped: Healing After Loss

If you're deep in grief and are having a hard time focusing on anything, including reading for extended periods, there is a book I would highly recommend: Healing After Loss by Martha W. Hickman.  The book was given to me by a dear friend who knew my mom well for many years.  Though Hickman departed this world in 2015 after a prolific writing career, her words continue to resonate with many people, including yours truly. 

The book is divided in 365 meditations, one for each day of the year, each one being no more than three or four short paragraphs.  I have found Hickman's book to offer much comfort and solace in recent times. I especially love some of her words from her October 23rd entry:

"But our life has changed now, with the event of this loss.  Perhaps it is time to take our energy we poured into that relationship....and turn to some new thing....Think of your loved one as blessing your effort, smiling through the veil that separates life from death, cheering you on...."