Gift-Curse of Grief
“When we come to deeply be with the finitude of our lives, and the lives of those we love, our appreciation for everything is deepened.
We touch a vibrancy, a richness—and we begin to wake up.
This other person we love could die at any time.
And we too will die.
We realize that every moment is a secret cache.
Each breath is an offering.
And every increment of time is irreplaceable.
The only thing for which life offers even a fleeting guarantee is this moment—right here and right now. This is all we have, all we ever have.
It is both absolving and terrifying.”
~Joanne Cacciatore, “Bearing the Unbearable”
And yet… We (aka “I”) forget. We allow the busyness of to-do lists, need-to-do lists, and piles of stuff get in the way of reveling in the blessing of “Right Here, Right Now.”
We have this moment. We are not guaranteed another even though we live lives as if we and others are immortal.
Then we are surprised, shocked, and reminded by the passing of a family member, friend, pet, or other person of note. We are opened to the grief, the longing for another, but we talk ourselves back into normalcy, grab our to do lists and move on to the next thing on the list. We put our grief on a shelf.
For some of us, looking back brings a smile, a regret, a joy at remembrance, or a saddening of the heart. A place, song, smell, or sight…a name whispered on the wind…an old photograph – we are reminded again that life is finite. Moments are fleeting. And we need to grab each one with fierceness, passion, and eye toward remembering this moment, right here, right now, for all time.
This personal reminder is dedicated in honor of those who have gone on before me … may I remember your story and grieve your loss while embracing what life has to offer right here, right now.