I'm sitting in my hotel room, looking out at the Pacific Ocean. The sun shines brightly on its surface, people stroll across the breach; a kite resembling a prehistoric bird soars throught he air, while a more traditionally built kite with a long tail soars far above that one. Children call to each other as they enjoy the peacefulness of this moment. Seagulls in search of nuggets of abandoned food hunt the beach, screaching at each other as they search, "No, that one was mine!" "Was not, I saw it first!"
My husband gently slumbers beside me as we enjoy a quiet rest after a rejuvenating bike ride and an hour of listening to General Conference. Soon we'll bike through the town of Seaside Oregon, enjoying again the little shops, the other tourists who have come, as we have, to take a break from their lives.
And life has been a little too intense for this peace-loving person! It's hard to put to rest your mother, old and ill though she was. The process hurts, even if she IS in a better place, and IS with my father and her parents, and DID need the suffering to end. Even if I needed my OWN suffering and discomfort to end of caring someone who required round the clock attention the last few weeks. It hurts to see her go. It hurts that there is such a thing as death in this life where there are SO many good things: so much beauty, so much peace, so much love. And yet, as Elder Russell M Nelson has said, "The only way to take sorrow out of death is to take love out of life." Not worth it. I love so many people in my life! And it's worth the risk.
I was comforted in that same article with these words: "The sense of tragedy may be related to age. Generally the younger the victim, the greater the grief. Yet even when the elderly or infirm have been afforded merciful relief, their loved ones are rarely ready to let go. The only length of life that seems to satisfy the longings of the human heart is life everlasting."
It hurts even if she was old! Even if she was sometimes grouchy. Even if she needed to go; even if we prayed for her to be able to go, even if we received some financial compensation for caring for her, and as a result of her death. It hurts. But I know in Whom I trust. I believe this will all get better. It has with my dad; it has with other loved ones who have died: my friend Nancy, my niece Jennie, my sister-in-law Marie. These losses have gotten better for ME anyway, and I'm sure that in time, this loss will get easier. I believe that those who die are really not very far away, that they never stop caring, nor loving. I believe that when it comes time for ME to die, I could NOT stop loving my family!
So being next to the ocean offers a diversion, a sense of peace. But true peace will come in time, and by allowing myself to feel the pain if I need to feel it. I loved my mother, I still do love my mother. I guess far more than I knew! But I will see her again someday. And that I know.
Meanwhile, time to finish this small vacation! And then to go back to real life, I hope, ready to face it again. AND enjoy it!
3 comments:
Great blog entry. The Oregon Coast is quite therapeutic! Love you!
It sounds like you've found the perfect therapy, I believe this break will rejuvenate you and help you find the comfort you need.
Thanks Kevin and Alissa. The ocean did its best to comfort. I hope returning to real life doesn't undo the therapy!
Post a Comment