When grief comes to you as a purple gorilla
you must count yourself lucky.
You must offer her what is left of your dinner, the book you were trying to finish you must put aside
And make her a place to sit
At the foot of your bed,
Her eyes moving from the clock to the television and back again.
I am not afraid. She has been here before and now I can recognize her gait
As she approaches the house.
Some nights when I know she is coming, I unlock the door, lie down on my back and count her steps.
Tonight she brings a pencil and a ream of paper.
She tells me to write down everyone I’ve ever known, and we separate them between the living and the dead. We talk about each one.
I play her favorite Willie Nelson song.
She says she misses home.
I hum a little and then close my eyes.
I consider myself to be pretty lucky.
For anyone who has lost someone they love you understand the profound effect it has on your life. If you are lucky, as I was, you begin to see it as an opportunity. Not that I would choose this as a method to happiness. Not at all. Only as a choice. After caring for my father and my husband both with cancer, and watching them slowly leave this life , I had an awakening. Not without a price tag mind you. I spent six years going from hospitals, to work, to emergency rooms and doctor's offices all in a blinded force that kept me locked in fear. I battled along with my loved ones but with a fierce and firm grip on some unknown reality that I could possibly have changed the results of their disease. In the end, the harsh and devastating truth won. Now three years later I can see clearly what a gift this was to me. I understand now that nothing is random, that my life is full of signs and symbols. That at any given moment the universe is giving me the best possible results. That through that experience I have a new and stronger reverence for life and a fearlessness that would not have come about if I had not be present for their passing. In the midst of the sadness and deep loss I was able to see the beauty.
We have all heard the saying "live as if this is your last day". It may sometimes be hard to process when you have too many other things on your mind and much to accomplish in a certain time frame. Perhaps it is simply too abstract or demanding...what do I do? how do I act? Living each day to it's fullest has no particular look , that is the beauty of it. It has a feeling, a flow, an awareness that keeps you centered and able to be.Easy to say when the demands of life get the better of you and you feel anything but flowing. Consider this.If you were given medication from a doctor because you were told it would help you,most likely you would take it right? I consider living in awareness my daily medication. It does not promise grand results only gifts beyond any I could imagine.