(I'm not cheating on you, but I posted this on Facebook today because I wanted to send love as far as it would reach.)
Friends and family, I love you. Those I don’t know well enough to love like that (because it’d be weird)---I love you as fellow human beings and as my sisters and brothers on the planet.
I had a fall to my knees, “Why, God? Why?” moment when I heard the news today---full on Sally Field. I thought of those parents and the mammoth agony tearing through them now and how it will inhabit them always. I thought of the presents they might have in their closets and how much it will hurt to look at them in these next days when they reach for a sweater. How they may beat themselves up for not giving their child some special sled or stuffed animal the moment s/he asked for it, waiting instead for a Christmas morning that never came. I thought of how much sorrow this time of year will bring them from now on.
My thoughts shifted then to what to do? What to do for those people and also what to do with my own pain.
And there’s nothing really to be done...except to tell everyone I love them.
It’s all I can think of. I don’t feel like being angry with anyone this particular moment. I understand the anger---we’re grieving and anger is a part of it. But while I’m sure I will feel angry tomorrow or in 10 minutes or in a few months or for a few months, right now I am not angry, nor do I judge those who are. There is no sense to be made of any of it, so I am closing my eyes and trying to picture a current of love flowing from my own tight chest southwest to Connecticut. I’m picturing my love and prayers meeting yours there and holding those families tonight. I know I sound like a smelly hippie---I know. But maybe prayer does something. Maybe energy helps with healing. And as it’s the only way I can figure to help, I’m putting love out there in the hope that it contributes to some greater collective love that reaches those families and all who are hurting tonight.
So, all of you---even you, person whose status updates sometimes bug me---I love you.
I also wanted to share this from Brene Brown's latest book, Daring Greatly.
“When I asked people who had survived tragedy how we can cultivate and show more compassion for people who are suffering, the answer was always the same. Don’t shrink away from the joy of your child because I’ve lost mine. Don’t take what you have for granted – celebrate it. Don’t apologize for what you have. Be grateful for it and share your gratitude with others. Are your parents healthy? Be thrilled. Let them know how much they mean to you. When you honor what you have, you’re honoring what I’ve lost.”
I’m opting for a night of quiet and gratitude tonight. I have a warm home, a pretty tree in the living room, and all the kids I love made it through the day safely today. I am grateful for this and to be alive and for the capacity for gratitude. Love you all...even you FarmVille weirdos.
Peace to all your hearts.
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8 comments:
Laura, you are a beautiful person, a generous and loving soul. I thank you and wish you peace now and always.
'Quiet gratitude' was our night, too. So hard to comprehend. Your words are comfort. XOXO
Steph
I don't care if it's here or FB, I'm just glad to hear your voice!! :) This was beautifully written and so captured the feelings so many of us feel/felt, but have a hard time articulating. Again, this is your gift...
Love, Love, Love this :)
"Maybe energy helps with healing. And as it’s the only way I can figure to help, I’m putting love out there in the hope that it contributes to some greater collective love that reaches those families and all who are hurting tonight."
I think so, and am sending my deepest loving healing energy to those devistated families also. May our collective energies meet.
Love,
Mart
My yoga teacher read this poem in class. It's so beautiful and resonant I had to shere here.
"Heavy," by Mary Oliver
That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying
I went closer
and I did not die.
Surely God
had his hand in this,
as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,
was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel
(brave even among lions),
"It's not the weight you carry, but how you carry it -
books, bricks, grief -
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it,
carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down.
"So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?
Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?
How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe also troubled -
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
..a love to which there is no reply?
Mart
Oh, Lola and Mart. I keep coming back to this post again and again. But before I had always done so only with my head and had my heart firmly reined in because I could not quite let it join in. So glad I came back today on a day with the grief of that day combined with fresh griefs (of a lesser magnitude, not involving physical death, only sadness). This time I let my heart join in because today is the day I knew was coming, the day it would just be too damn heavy to carry it all. Thank you for the presence you did not even know you were offering, yet I felt you near.
Let me just start by saying that your blog is one of my 12 top sites that I have up permanently on my MacBook. My heart did a flip flop today, like a school girl in love when I saw the icon had changed... my Lo was back!!! What a great day it has now become. We would have all been here for 30 more days waiting, 30 more weeks waiting and even 30 more years waiting for you to return to us. I missed you, I love you, so glad you are back my friend.
With love,
Lor
Let me just start by saying that your blog is one of my 12 top sites that I have up permanently on my MacBook. My heart did a flip flop today, like a school girl in love when I saw the icon had changed... my Lo was back!!! What a great day it has now become. We would have all been here for 30 more days waiting, 30 more weeks waiting and even 30 more years waiting for you to return to us. I missed you, I love you, so glad you are back my friend.
With love,
Lor
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