In the last month, my mom died.
A friend/former colleague died.
And, early yesterday morning, I received a phone call about a friend’s 31-year-old daughter who died.
Yesterday was the second Sunday morning my friend has been awakened around 4 a.m. with news of losing a child. Her son died in a car accident some years ago.
I don’t claim to know how she feels or what to say or how to help. However, after we talked, I understand more about the necessity of loss.
Without losing, I’m not sure we can grasp loving.
Death is the harsh half of bittersweet. It’s the yin of yin and yang. It’s the ultimate pain of our journey, but it’s also the ultimate wakeup call, even if, like my friend, it’s not the call we hoped for.
During our conversation last evening, the tone of my friend’s voice, as well as her words, expressed tenderness like I’ve never heard in a counseling session or sermon. Not that she won’t get angry and experience moments of questioning God, but she’s got hold of something that some of us never do. She said she was crazy and probably would be for a while.
All I could think was, “Crazy in love.”
And I can relate some. Since Mom’s and my friend’s deaths, I have more lovingly reflected and intensely missed them than in all the years they lived. Death, if we let it, brings to the forefront our own tenderness.
Whose death has left you at a loss so much so that it also changed you?
WRite wHere I’m supposed to be – Often I have posted what a counselor said when she asked if I felt like I was dying, “You’re really being born.” I believe dealing with death is often a birth into deeper love.
Related post: Pain, the fabric softener of life
On the side: Click here for more artwork by Cindy DeLuz.