Letting go Holding on.
I have not been able to let go of the bicycle seat yet. My 6 year old is getting close. Maybe I took off the training wheels off too early. I will eventually let go. Just like I will let go when he goes to college. I will let go and get more. I will grow and see him grow. I've been wondering if this example applies to Pat. Pat will not be calling me from college. No. But I do believe that letting go of our wounded sense of justice that comes from losing someone who should not have died, does bring us closer to our loved ones. But maybe I don't want to let go of my wounded sense of justice. Maybe I want to cling to it like it's some kind of badge. See! Look at this!
I've been thinking a lot about mercy recently. I remember seeing it as a question on the Meyers-Briggs: "what is more important: justice or mercy?" I've come to see that after untimely death, mercy is required to believe in justice again. Mercy forgives that which has wounded our sense of justice so that we may see it more clearly. How can justice operate when we are so blind with grief and anger? Mercy lifts the veil of anger and shatters our ignoring of what truly matters. Mercy for ourselves, the world, the departed all reveal love. If people knew that letting go of such wounds actually brought them closer to their loves, they would rush toward their regret to release it as quickly as possible. Anyone who does this is astonished by the presence they gain.
And now a Haiku:
wanting you back here
letting you go there
love more now
UPDATE 2019: I ran for a full year behind the kiddo's bicycle. Then one day a little girl in the neighborhood rolled up on her bike and said "let's go". He went.
I've been thinking a lot about mercy recently. I remember seeing it as a question on the Meyers-Briggs: "what is more important: justice or mercy?" I've come to see that after untimely death, mercy is required to believe in justice again. Mercy forgives that which has wounded our sense of justice so that we may see it more clearly. How can justice operate when we are so blind with grief and anger? Mercy lifts the veil of anger and shatters our ignoring of what truly matters. Mercy for ourselves, the world, the departed all reveal love. If people knew that letting go of such wounds actually brought them closer to their loves, they would rush toward their regret to release it as quickly as possible. Anyone who does this is astonished by the presence they gain.
And now a Haiku:
wanting you back here
letting you go there
love more now
UPDATE 2019: I ran for a full year behind the kiddo's bicycle. Then one day a little girl in the neighborhood rolled up on her bike and said "let's go". He went.
Comments
In your loss you have chosen to love. I see this as profound. I am moved by this. I personally experienced miscarriage at 16 weeks in Aug. of 2004 (may have written this to you in old e-mail but not sure), then again Oct. 2004. I have desired desperately to have those losses not be wasted, though no one really knew those lives. I mourned them fully just as I would have if they had been born to me, if I had felt their breath on my skin. I believed (and still do) that going into grief headlong allowed me to honor the babies I never really knew. I also feel that we are not made to be apart, and the feeling of loss is quite normal even if the person is unmet, unborn. In the past two years I stepped in and out of the fog of miscarriage grief. I have decided to watch for opportunities to serve others in their losses, to be a resource to them. I'm not exactly sure where this all will lead me in the long run, but I know I cannot let my losses change me into a nothing, because losses do change a person, I want my changes to be for the better. So far the only opportunities to help have come one to one. A woman here or there might tell me about miscarriage, and I'm there, listening and comforting. Your comment about people saying "it's all for a reason" is accurate, they do blabber such things for themselves. I was one of those types once upon a time, not knowing how it came across. I didn't realize such sweet sunshine left people so cold. Now I know, and now I just listen. Better to keep a mouth shut so as not to hurt with thoughtless comments!
I believe you have honored your brother here.
Humbly,
Dawn Meisenheimer Lewis
Thanks for the note. It's cool to see you reaching out to help through your loss. You point to a way out of the "fog of miscarriage grief". The act of reaching out to help others reconnects us to the world. Glad to see you back.
Take Care,
Kevin