It's curious to me how a person's influence becomes all the more enhanced by their exit from this world. And I suppose that's the crux of what it means to grieve... that moment when a person is no longer physically attainable. Surely this is something that not only happens in death, but in any situation where loss is a factor.
Yesterday was the culmination of a 10 month-long journey for dear woman living with lung cancer. I had the privilege to walk with her as her chapters slowly came to a close. Her courage in facing death was astounding... she was open, honest... and never ceased caring for her 4 adult children. Let's face it... whether you are 4, 14, or 54... it's still your momma.
And I was asked to be her mouthpiece... by the woman herself... to be the voice facilitating her life's celebration. It's not that I necessarily feel pressure when asked to be a mouthpiece. I rather embrace it. It's a joy and a passion for me to offer that sort of closure and hope to the loved ones grieving on other side of the microphone.
What I don't always account for, however, is the impact of said loss on ME. Sure, this is my job. This is what I do. And I'm good at it.
But what I continue to learn is that, profession or not, there is a human element here. And it's the human element that drives me, draws me and compels me to keep loving in this way. It's the real intersection of life and death, hope and loss that somehow keeps me upright and aware of how precious life is. And I have learned that to feel is to have emotion... and I dare say... even show it.
I've learned to importance of forgiveness and grace. I've learned how grudges serve no purpose unless one wishes to be robbed of joy. I've learned that the ego can be a thief, running away with our truest sense of worth and accessibility. I've learned that regret is another form of twisted pride. It serves no good purpose. It merely turns into a quiet baseball bat with which to beat yourself.
I've learned that acceptance, grace and humility are not signs of weakness. I've learned that hope is real even though I may not have the vocabulary to really pinpoint it. I've learned that seizing the day is as close to truth as one could possibly imagine.
And I've learned that being teachable is the greatest gift to yourself.
I say "I learned". No I haven't mastered any of it. I'm learning instead. I hope to be a life long student. I hope to always find gratitude even in the face of loss... because it's not the loss that's the point.
It's the gift of time spent, of time given and the grace to accept it.
Be right where you are. Be here. Be now. And be love.
