Grateful

There are moments in this life that we collectively know as sacred…births and unions and momentous rites of passage.  We honor and celebrate them, and they are steeped in a joy shared and spread.

I didn’t know until recently how sacred the passage that is death is as well.  Indeed, it is the most hallowed space I’ve known on earth.  I am awed and humbled in its presence, even while I rage at its existence.  Indeed, existence itself only is because death is as well.

The death of my son has brought me to my knees like no other experience has.  No betrayal or upset or violation comes close to the agony of my child gone too soon.  And also, no experience has opened my heart and mind and being as much to the fathomless hallowed space in which he and all exist.  I have stretched and evolved in ways I could not have imagined if not for my son’s passing.  Even so, I’d change it without hesitation could I have him here again in this life.  But I cannot.  And as I cannot, I will not minimize the gifts – for gifts they are, even though it grates to say it.  Even though many who suffer this pain will be offended by my saying it.  There have been blessings for me in my son’s death, as there were blessings for me in his life.  And there are blessings yet to come.  This I know.

This is not to say it’s okay….this is not to say I am okay.  And also, it is okay, and I am okay.  I am angry and at peace.  I am in celebration of other’s blessings, and I am jealous.  I am joyful at baby news, and I am heartsick.  I am delighted for so many of my peers becoming in-laws and grandparents.  And I am anguished that I am not.

I am human.

I am also deeply grateful to those who have chosen to love me actively along this path I journey.  To those who reach out with kindnesses and remembrances.  To those who speak my son’s name.  To those who acknowledge my journey.  To those who are mindful that my son lives on.

This weekend I was graced with two gifts of light and love, and I am deeply moved and grateful.  Friends who are mother and daughter brought to my home flowers and a homemade card with love and gratitude…and within the card, two necklaces, each bearing the first initial of my two sons.  And yesterday, a beautiful young adult – whose presence in my world has ever been a gift to me – wrote a poem in honor and memory of my child, with profound insights that awe and touch my heart.  The kindness and grace in these gifts of the heart are humbling and sustaining.

These blessings I only know because of and through the tragedy that has been.  And if I am to keep breathing in this plane that is earth and is life, I must claim and declare, “I am grateful.”

Yes, yes, I am grateful.  I am grateful.  I am grateful for it all.