The sun is brilliantly lighting the sky, and it's rays are bouncing off the leaves on the trees. The golds and reds reflecting the light and multiplying it, illuminating the interior of my home in a promising way. You would think this sort of beauty would make you smile, open your heart and mind to happiness and hope.
You would think so.
No, the tears are due to heartbreaking stories. Words and images that touch a deeper place in my heart and resonate too vividly in my mind to avoid feeling that ache, even with the golden sun.
The first opportunity came while watching a story about a four year old girl - whose picture is circling the globe - because she couldn't let go of her father's hand as he fell in to formation, preparing to deploy to Iraq. She was with her family at a military base seeing her daddy off, when the troops were told to fall in. She followed him to the tarmac and hung on against all urging from her parents.
The image tugged at my heart and made me think of everybody who would do the very same thing if they could.
A little while later, I logged online and checked the usual places for more news and mail and greetings from friends, etc. I found news in one online community that a new friend had lost a brother over the last week due to an unfortunate accident, and is suffering this sudden loss along with her family.
A bright, enthusiastic, engaging young woman - I can't imagine her in the throes of this sort of grief.
Aside from losing my grandfather (far too early), I have not had to experience the death of a brother just yet. Thank you, God.
My heart was torn by thoughts of loss - as a mother and as a sibling.
Her brother Jack was, in her words, a Renaissance man...choosing a life of unconventionality. Not quite fitting in anywhere, but going where the wind blew him and choosing to enjoy life no matter what, wedging himself into the things and places he found interesting.
He was a scholarly person, a solitary soul, a happy man, a deep thinker, an adventurer and a member of a loving family. He wrote beautiful poetry and cyphered ancient languages. He lived.
And now, they grieve.
We go on after a loss such as this, knowing somehow things will return to a more normal state over time. The hole will never fully close, the pain will never fully subside, the loss will never totally leave our minds, but that's how we know we are still alive. We are here - we are left behind - so that those who have gone before will never be forgotten.
Only time can get us past this sort of moment in our lives.
Only time.
What will you do with yours?
Gin, my thoughts and prayers follow you, dear friend.
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