18. Now

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Written Saturday, January 11, 2020 / Day 152 / Morning

Now is an interesting concept. It is amazing how we do not really understand the idea - nor do we fully embrace the moment it represents.

Now is right in front of us yet we resist it - or worse yet, ignore it and instead focus on what does not matter.

Now actually matters more than we thought. Now is now. It is right in front of you - yet now is only a platform from which we do so much to resist it.

I know in my recent pre-grief life - I had little luxury for now. My life was a constant stream of obligations that could not be ignored in order to drink in now.

I did have my now moments and I am eternally grateful that I focused on the one who made my now what it was. The one who was everything to me even though we could not embrace everything we dreamed of embracing.

No those moments were just triggers to deal with the next moment, what needed to be addressed - what had to be done. In that continual evaluation mode - sorting out the stream of obligations was a constant. Yes this needs to be done, yes, well that would be nice but I’ll have to wait and no - that is just something that can not be addressed.

Of course then there was executing those obligations - whatever they were.

Certainly there were gaps in all of the stream - there were momentary lulls in the action - a respite of sorts and then there were those times where I embraced my sweetie. I made those moments happen no matter what I was doing.

Sometimes I would just stop what I was doing - go over to her and just tell her I loved her. Remind her of the good and hopefully make her smile. Sometimes try to come up with an expression of my love to try to reassure her especially when she was feeling ignored or neglected.

Grief is actually very good at now. It unfortunately takes now and shoves it in your face. Here, take a good helping of now - pretty awful, isn’t it. You’re welcome.

No I'm not welcome, thank you - your helping of now is not welcome or wanted or appreciated. Grief takes now and slaps you around with it until there’s not much of you left.

Perhaps that is why these writings or the family history I am writing separately are comforting. They have nothing to do with now. For grief has taken now and turned it into everything that represents awful.

And it is very good at what it does.

So in living in the past - there is a bit of insulation. But unfortunately - the return trip to now is inevitable. Now is always waiting to get you back.

There are things to do in the now. Time to eat, make the bed, take care of the now. And oh, by the way - here’s a slap across the face about how lonely and empty your life is right now. Don’t mention it, says grief, it’s the least I can do for you.

When I gave grief a personality early on and began to address it directly - I seem to have taken a step to release it’s hold on the now.

It can do all it wants to try to make my nows terrible which to that I say, “Go away! Get out of here - I’ll take over for you - your kind is not wanted here.”.

I instead focus on hope. Hope is actually a future now. One in which the issues of the present now have to step aside for something better. The present awful now will always be in the background - but the now of the future will have some kind of new reality.

One that I cannot fully grasp as yet - but one I know is sure and true.

A better now.

The mornings seem to be the most now moments I have. Occasionally those first moments of the day are deceptively like the past. They do not last long at all. They cascade to the painful present. The stark reminder of the stark reality that is the core of the present now.

To which I say, “What am I doing here? What am I doing?”.

For the moment - existing. What happened yesterday? That was a now that has turned into a then. A now that has become a memory.

My sweetie and I would look back at our lives and reflect on events and those who we so miss. She would say “where did all that go?” - to which I would say, “We lived those moments.”.

The nows that had come and gone. All who were a part of them now relegated to history.

Without an earthly future for the moment - my nows are presently a bit of a tennis match. Me batting away the now that grief wants to pitch to me. A now I understand and reject.

When I can get a grip on now I take it and try to mold it into something better. I cling to the hope that my Savior has for me - I relish the best of the past nows - those that remind me of the unfathomable love I was blessed to share with the most amazing person I could have ever been blessed to be with. I let those nows out of their box and let them flow into my present now.

I am thankful that I have been led to write these essays. Each one a glimpse of a now that I had embraced. I look at many of them and am amazed. They could not be recreated. They could not since those nows are gone.

Each essay like a butterfly that was captured. Each one a step.

Each one a comfort in its own way.

I pray they are a comfort to you in your now.

As they have been in mine.

18. Now

Written Saturday, January 11, 2020 / Day 152 / Morning

Now is an interesting concept. It is amazing how we do not really understand the idea - nor do we fully embrace the moment it represents.

Now is right in front of us yet we resist it - or worse yet, ignore it and instead focus on what does not matter.

Now actually matters more than we thought. Now is now. It is right in front of you - yet now is only a platform from which we do so much to resist it.

I know in my recent pre-grief life - I had little luxury for now. My life was a constant stream of obligations that could not be ignored in order to drink in now.

I did have my now moments and I am eternally grateful that I focused on the one who made my now what it was. The one who was everything to me even though we could not embrace everything we dreamed of embracing.

Of course then there was executing those obligations - whatever they were.

Certainly there were gaps in all of the stream - there were momentary lulls in the action - a respite of sorts and then there were those times where I embraced my sweetie. I made those moments happen no matter what I was doing.

Sometimes I would just stop what I was doing - go over to her and just tell her I loved her. Remind her of the good and hopefully make her smile. Sometimes try to come up with an expression of my love to try to reassure her especially when she was feeling ignored or neglected.

Grief is actually very good at now. It unfortunately takes now and shoves it in your face. Here, take a good helping of now - pretty awful, isn’t it. You’re welcome.

No I'm not welcome, thank you - your helping of now is not welcome or wanted or appreciated. Grief takes now and slaps you around with it until there’s not much of you left.

Perhaps that is why these writings or the family history I am writing separately are comforting. They have nothing to do with now. For grief has taken now and turned it into everything that represents awful.

And it is very good at what it does.

So in living in the past - there is a bit of insulation. But unfortunately - the return trip to now is inevitable. Now is always waiting to get you back.

There are things to do in the now. Time to eat, make the bed, take care of the now. And oh, by the way - here’s a slap across the face about how lonely and empty your life is right now. Don’t mention it, says grief, it’s the least I can do for you.

When I gave grief a personality early on and began to address it directly - I seem to have taken a step to release it’s hold on the now.

It can do all it wants to try to make my nows terrible which to that I say, “Go away! Get out of here - I’ll take over for you - your kind is not wanted here.”.

I instead focus on hope. Hope is actually a future now. One in which the issues of the present now have to step aside for something better. The present awful now will always be in the background - but the now of the future will have some kind of new reality.

One that I cannot fully grasp as yet - but one I know is sure and true.

A better now.

The mornings seem to be the most now moments I have. Occasionally those first moments of the day are deceptively like the past. They do not last long at all. They cascade to the painful present. The stark reminder of the stark reality that is the core of the present now.

To which I say, “What am I doing here? What am I doing?”.

For the moment - existing. What happened yesterday? That was a now that has turned into a then. A now that has become a memory.

My sweetie and I would look back at our lives and reflect on events and those who we so miss. She would say “where did all that go?” - to which I would say, “We lived those moments.”.

The nows that had come and gone. All who were a part of them now relegated to history.

Without an earthly future for the moment - my nows are presently a bit of a tennis match. Me batting away the now that grief wants to pitch to me. A now I understand and reject.

I am thankful that I have been led to write these essays. Each one a glimpse of a now that I had embraced. I look at many of them and am amazed. They could not be recreated. They could not since those nows are gone.

Each essay like a butterfly that was captured. Each one a step.

Each one a comfort in its own way.

I pray they are a comfort to you in your now.

As they have been in mine.

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