I talk so much about my penchant for restless and my inability to arrive at stillness. It is a constant battle to find that quiet place. As time wraps around like an uncontrollable ivy, I understand why it is so important to sink into all of our moments, quiet and noisy ones. This past week I’ve learned of at least three sets of people who’ve experienced loss. An older woman lost her husband after several years of marriage. A wife lost her husband midlife and is now faced with raising her four kids on her own. A mother and father lost their only child.
I attended the service of the parents who lost their only child. Sitting in the back row in a local friendship garden, I watched as this mother and father talked about losing their baby after knowing her only for 40 days. Tears started streaming down my face, as I contemplated all of the moments they would miss. The mother talked about holding her baby close on her chest, listening to her breathe, and and about how she loved feeling so loved. In the middle of her sadness, her husband comforted her and she took another breath, reminiscing about all those firsts: the first time her baby smiled, the first time she opened her eyes, the first time she witnessed bath time with her daughter. In between her pauses and sobs, I thought about those moments this particular mother would miss.
These questions came to mind: Why do we have to witness another person’s loss or experience our own loss to turn us toward gratitude? Why can’t we always remember to be grateful?
Experiencing the loss of others as well as our own creates an awareness that is acute and heightened. When I came home that evening, I hugged my daughter tight, kissing her cheeks and wrapping her up like my own personal burrito. A laugh emanated out of her belly. My distractions were minimal. I wasn’t reaching for my phone or on my computer. It was a rare glimpse of what it feels like to be in the moment: listening and reacting without racing to the next thought. Another thing happened: tears started trickling down my face again. This was a singular moment. I felt the thrum of my personal longitude and latitude meeting in my life: the intersection of an unconditional love and the acknowledgement of how lucky you are that you get to experience this kind of moment in your life.
So much of my daily landscape centers on the unresolved. As I grapple to find my way, I tend to focus on what is not, then what is. I suspect many of us fall back on that kind of safety net because it is the one we all know. The truth is, most of the time, everything is foiled with beauty, love, and a goodness that requires shifting my perception on focusing what is right. The struggle should not detract from the edge of gratitude. When I experience my own losses and those of others it reminds me to keep that flicker of gratitude always alive, like a mantra that I am chanting without ever moving my mouth.
Image: “Loss” by Marina del Castell via Flickr.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
I wholeheartedly agree with the concept of ying and yang – essentially without one we can’t appreciate the other. I think it’s biologically how we’re built – you don’t realize you’re hungry until you’re on empty and starving; or that you need water until you’re lacking it, etc.. That’s so sad about the couple losing their child – that is so painful, can’t even fathom losing those moments – especially now that my son is 7.. Beautiful words Rudri, take care! -Iva
Thanks, Iva. I’ve always seen life as a consistent pendulum swinging between happiness and sadness. To really sink into one, you must know the other.
As always, a pleasure to see you in my space.
So true! Sometimes I think that some things happen to move us to that place of gratitude on the game board of life… It awakens us to what is right there all the time. <3
I like the analogy of the game board, Roma. We are constantly moving positions, not knowing what will come next, but you are right, some shifts become a “game” changer to help remind us what it is important.
Seeing the loss of others or experiencing some sort of loss of our own shifts our perception and we truly focus on the gratitude of our own lives. I think we get so caught up in life’s obligations which stress us that we don’t always live in the moment though we try.
There is so much pain in the world. I sometimes have to shield myself because this weigh of others weighs me, and I have to purposely shift my focus to the love around me so that I not only am grateful but I remember that the good far outweighs the bad in life.
Susan,
I agree that weight of losses can obstruct our view on goodness. Sinking into laughter, wonder and love is a helpful way for me to understand that goodness is always around the corner.
It’s been a week of loss for people in my life too. My friend lost his brother suddenly. I had heard about a fellow blogger losing her three-year-old son. And of course it made me bring my son closer and closer to me for most of the day.
There is a lot of heaviness and pain in the world. I practice gratitude very often.
Tamara,
So sorry to hear of these losses.
When I read what you shared, I was struck by the universality of all our experiences. We are all see-sawing with the same goodness and sadness and cultivating gratitude is a way to cope with the push and pull of these two diametric emotions.
This hits home..a few months ago I wrote about the same sentiment. I watched death and other things falling apart in people’s lives and I asked myself why we have to see these tragic things to be awakened to our life..to gratitude..to knowing that every day is a gift not to sound like a cliche but it is. Every day we are given to be with the ones we love, to help someone, to breathe with gratitude…it is a wonderful gift that we must cherish. Thanks for the reminder.
Thanks for adding your voice to this discussion, Ayala. Gratitude is a practice that should come as natural as our breaths. I know I take it for granted sometimes, but am working toward making it my automatic default. It is a process.
Gratitude is one of my favorite themes, too, Rudri – what we have to be grateful for can sometimes be as overwhelming as our losses.
I like your Daily Delights – what a neat concept! I appreciate Luanne Castle pointing out your blog – it’s nice to ‘meet’ you!
Welcome Shel!
I never thought about how much our gratitude for good things may be as equally overwhelming to the losses that we experience. Thank for pointing out that insight.
That feeling that a good thing might come to an end creates a tension that may parallel some of the same sadness that accompanies loss.
So glad you enjoyed the daily delights. It is a segment I enjoy writing about every month. Hope to see you in my space again. Nice to “meet” you, Shel.
I’m so sorry to hear about all those losses…I cannot begin to imagine having to attend the service for a child…
It is sad, isn’t it, that it takes loss to remember what we have. Lately I have been trying to be more conscious of appreciating the day-to-day and, when we have enough time, my son and I end our days sharing with each other a small handful of things we were grateful for. We’ve been doing this on and off for a couple of years but I would like to make this a more consistent practice.
I love the practice of embracing gratitude with your son. The daily ritual is a way to honor the everyday without needing some loss as a reminder to think about what you are grateful for. Your idea is one that I’d like to incorporate as a tradition for my household. Thanks, Cecilia.
Hi Rudri, This is a nice post. I often recourse to ancient wisdom for answers to loss and death. There is a delighful story in an ancient text in which Time takes the form of a man to explain loss and death to a grieving father.
http://www.simplyhindu.com/what-is-death-ancient-wisdom/