August twelfth is coming and along with it an assessment of life. No matter how we run from the moment - now is what life is all about. Yet within grief I experienced both the longing and inclination to live in the past as well as total denial that I would ever embrace the future again - in any form.
In the current now there is a peace that is beyond understanding. A peace that is hard to convey to those around me.
What defines me right now is the contrast of my past and the present lives.
They could not have been more opposite.
In grief - despite the blessing that my physical needs were completely met - the utter desolation of an empty life was more burdensome than I could have ever imagined. The weight of that burden a constant struggle. A struggle that others could never really see because it was in fact my struggle.
In the dawn of a new life - the meaning behind those words equally as difficult to communicate to others.
It is new - completely. Utterly. Amazingly.
The memory of the former anguish now faded - yet the memory of that time still lurking in the background.
During that time I was assured by a fellow grief sufferer that, “It will get better”. While I appreciated the sentiment - the context of life at that time was far from better. In the back of my mind I did feel that was possible yet I was trapped in a reality I could not conceive of how “better” would ever happen.
In my new world I have met a good number of people who are grieving. Strangely I now communicate that same message to them, “It will get better”.
Sitting in a place of immeasurable peace - both physically and spiritually - that assessment now rings true.
I long to bottle some of it up and send it along to those now battling the insurmountable losses they face. While knowing that as they find their way - they too will one day be able to send the same message of a better future.
Quick and easy answers are what our culture promotes. In grief there are none - no matter what you might be told.
Previous essays have touched upon so many of those realities we grief sufferers have and continue to face.
Twelves - at first - were always a personal burden. Not only because my dear Joann came into the world on a twelve - but also completed her race on a twelve. The orderly system analyst in me finding some type of cosmic peace in those patterns.
No longer do twelves disable me. Part of the healing you might say - part of the exercise of living through life and through grief.
They now serve as a marker - a monument of sorts. A monument to a past life that has now taken its rightful place in history.
A reminder that as each appears on the horizon that indeed - it is better.
What God has done here - a monument to His love and care. I always knew He had me.
Of course I was lost. Confused. Bewildered. Not having a clue as to how I would ever again operate. Safely hidden in the past no matter how much the future made its case.
Now the future - my future is indeed here - the better life I knew would come has appeared.
As each “better” today unfolds I am in abject wonder of it all. I see things with an element of awe that is as equally difficult to communicate as those painful days of grief.
God knew of today - each day - before I would ever admit that such days were possible for me. Others yes - but me - not really.
And yet here we are. In a life I could not have foreseen.
As I survey my surroundings there are parts of the past still with me. There are some artifacts that have followed me. Their poignance an elegant reminder of the bridge they now are. They take me to days of the past. And where there used to be a bitter spin to those moments - they now serve as a reassurance. Their message - “see, you are here. It IS better now.”
And yes it is.
Just as in my grief - I’m not completely sure where I am going exactly. But that is okay. Because of the One I follow. He has brought me here for His purpose.
If you know of the insurmountable burden of grief - please take hold of this thought - “it will get better”.
Because it will.
Just hold on to the One who can take you there.
And let Him.
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