Time runs its course, decades come and go, and sometimes we lurch forward into profound realization.
A couple of blog topics tried to express the difficulty I have with the month of April, and reconciling my past. I’ve been filling days with yard work, chanting prayers and trying to stay in the present moment.
I looked at a picture of my young father taken in happy times, and it occurred to me that I never thanked him for giving me my brother. Grateful insight gave me pause. If my brother hadn’t been born, lived his short life and died, I never would have known how much love capacity I held.
Would I love and lose? Absolutely. I would choose love and make a million mistakes by loving. I would endure the trapped emotional vulnerability that made me think I was dying, but I would still choose to love, and live with losing.
Confidence in love is a new emotion for me. I choose to love even if loss is part of the deal. Death is death, and obviously we’re all dying sometime. Do we all get a chance to love?
My father and brother died within five years of each other when I was young. I went through two grieving processes back to back. Death’s reality was easier to accept than forgiving myself for missing them. Other people thought I should get over it and move on more quickly than I was able.
For me, growing older means facing truth that death and life don’t exist for my convenience. I can only control whether or not I show up for my emotions that surround loss. Love has been a comfort despite death. Thanking my father for my brother after fifty years is an example of how strong love can be over the sorrow of losing.
Love and lose. If I don’t love, I lose worse. For me, love is worth the effort.