This week I suffered a loss - a death in the family. In going through this and following the same procedures that I know all too well (grieving, coping, comforting others, etc), I couldn't help but recognize the reflection that comes with losing someone you love. Perhaps it's this whole business of commencement addresses and personal statement writing; perhaps I am simply hyper-aware of reflection because of the units through which we've been working. Nevertheless, I found myself reflecting on my life. And, here I am, in the late hours of the night (or early hours of the morning, depending on what type of person you are) -- the time of night when only sketchy activity wakes and weird-looking animals stir about -- reflecting on the reflection that I've done this week.
In a sense, I am commencing a new chapter of my life. There's a shift in my narrative, albeit a small one. You see, my life has changed because this family member has left it (in the physical sense). Again, it's a small change, but it's there. I've realized that even though it may not seem like my life is different because my day-to-day routine isn't changing and my goals remain the same and my focus hasn't shifted, what I knew my life, in the complete sense of the word, to be will never be the same. No family dinner will ever be the same. The dynamic of it has changed. There is now an alteration in what it once was. Sure, we will celebrate the life of this loved one. We'll look back on past dinners and reminisce about the times that she made us all laugh. We'll re-tell her jokes so that the spirit of who she was lives on. We'll continue her traditions, which we all groaned over. Every. Single. Year. Yet, we always went along with them because it made her smile and gave her an excuse to tell a story -- her stories were the best. We'll feel nostalgic about the times when she was here. Still, that's exactly what it will be: nostalgia. I think that's what got me reflecting, the truth that every memory I will ever have of her has already been made. There is no potential for more, and everything involving her will always have a haze of "the past" over it.
So, it comes down to this: we are a product of not only what we do, but also of what life does to us. Essentially, we can't control everything that happens in our lives. Each interaction, each major change, each minor change for that matter, will alter our story just a bit. There will be a rift in what we have known to be the normalcy of our lives, a fracture in what we're used to. We will leave that experience different in some way. But, this is a good thing. It shows growth. It allows for it. And, it presents an opportunity to reflect -- on what you've done, on who you are, on who you want to be. I think these rifts, no matter how small they may be, are what truly develop our character. They force us to embark on a slightly different path, a slightly different story. Embrace them. We can look at them as a crack or we can view them as a restructure, but either way they create a new depth, something we haven't felt before, something we have yet to discover. It's in these depths that we start to find our gems, the qualities that shape us, the things that bring meaning to our narrative. And trust me, all of our narratives matter.
Like you said, each interaction, major and minor changes, will alter our story just a bit. You lost a family member that you loved so dearly and now every memory of her will be just a memory. This is a shift in your narrative. From the smallest alteration that could amount to so much: feeling. You feel nostalgic, but that nostalgia could be interpreted in positive ways, beautiful even. This is a commencement in itself. Whether it be for her- no more pain and suffering, her being left in His hands, a new eternal, harmless safe place. Or whether it be for you- a chance to commence a new experience in your life, to feel something different. You have most likely felt the grieving and coping over the death of a loved one before, but with each loved one, it’s different. They have all contributed to your life and even they have made major or minor alternations to your narrative. And with all of the grieving and coping, comes memories and that same nostalgia, and with all of the memories and nostalgia, comes reflection upon yourself, and that will cause you to want to keep moving- you won’t want to be stoic in a time of constant reminiscence and grief. This experience will allow you to escalate, even if it’s something as small as coming into contact with a new feeling and having the power to detach yourself from it. You’re becoming familiar with a feeling and you’re able to distinguish a good feeling from a bad one. This one rift in your life caused by the death of a loved one, as much heartache as it causes, it will allow you to commence an opportunity of growth.
ReplyDeleteWe’re all experiencing new things: situations, feelings, people, etc. and each experience leaves space for us to grow. You’re right, no matter what alteration is made in our life, we’re always going to get something out of it. In my case, it is feelings because I’m a sensitive person- with mine and others’ feelings- and every change that happens in my life, big or small, causes me to feel and think and reflect and feeling everything at once enhances the fullness of the situation, which makes the circle come together and leaves it up to growth for me. Every decision we make and every challenge that gets thrown at us, we’re able to create something new within ourselves using that experience and whatever it may be that we gain from it, it shapes who we are.