Life is mercurial. It’s a whisper that lingers in our ears and slowly, word by word it becomes inaudible. It’s a passing smoke, sliding through our hands. It’s the best of times. It’s the worst of times. Life is mercurial.
This post is so random, so you will just jump along with me and because you’re intelligent folk, you’ll piece everything together, yes? Thanks
Thursdays are for glee because it is so close to the weekend. It’s one of those days that the other days probably don’t like. Thursday is like the last born child. Dotted over. Thursday is like the girl we treat nicely because she is the sister to the guy your friend likes. Thursdays are handled delicately because they are right at the edge of a weekend. Thursday is the not the day for causing a scene with the tout who stays with your change, those ones we leave for Tuesday because no one has strength or motivation to cause a scene on Monday and its blues. So you let them stay with your money and you even humbly request for your money. Thursday is a shade of dusty pink or a mocha for the men whose testosterone won’t allow them to acknowledge that other color I won’t mention again for fear of torturing their poor souls.
So I don’t ever walk around thinking Thursday will bring melancholy.
There’s been a lot happening all over this past few months. Things that bring you back to the reality of how life can be fleeting. Things that make your heart tear at the seams. Things that wrench the very depth of your core. Things that are hard to explain to your children. And relatives. And spouse. Because how do you explain why your child committed suicide? How do you look people in their judgmental eyes and tell them your baby took his life? How do you move past the thought that he couldn’t handle the pressure of not being the best? How do you explain to the world why your lead singer thought that a rope was the best solution? How do you tell your children why they won’t be seeing their elder sister during the holidays? After the excitement of joining high school and making a new step in their life. How do you explain the gory details of the complex heart? Today, we were to drop by and donate platelets to a colleague’s friend later in the day, but we can’t do that anymore. On a chilly Thursday morning, he rested. Amidst a busy unknowing city.
Death can be a hard thing to understand. One moment there is this face whose contours you know so well. There’s this face with the left side dimple. Just the left side, that appears ever so slightly when they talk. There’s this throaty sincere laugh that tickles your heart every time you hear it. It always sounds like it started from the belly and made its way out of the mouth. There’s this voice you are so accustomed to hearing. There’s this whole being. Around. Who you see all the time, or maybe once in a while. But they are just there. Whose joy is always in their eyes as well as the sadness. You could almost see into their souls through their eyes. Then in a momentary time lapse they aren’t there. Death can be a hard thing to understand.
I imagine, the families of all these people lost, I imagine the hopes and dreams they had for them. Especially the young ones, I imagine that you don’t think you will outlive your children or not grow old with your partner. I guess the hardest thing about death is trying to fill the voids. The searing emptiness that comes with it. I imagine for the next couple of months, it will be a hard thing, when you catch the whiff of the scent your daughter liked to wear. When your colleague downstairs takes his coffee dark and broody like your husband did. When your neighbor’s son comes home for the holidays, the one who dreamt and chased after the sun with yours. When the year rolls in and you wake up one morning and the calendar alerts you of an upcoming birthday or anniversary. When you have a good day at work and pick up the phone to call him.
Hold on. The season will pass. The peace will come. The thing about people is that they leave memories. They may be tormenting flashes for now but in time they won’t. Give it time, let yourself heal. Grieve. Let people in. Even when you don’t understand, especially when don’t understand, let Jesus in. There’s no wall he won’t tear down rushing after you. He will bring you through it.