Blessings in Death…and Life

Sometimes blessings are carried on the wings of death.

I began thinking of this when I learned of the passing of a man who lived across the world and across cultural boundaries.  It was the father of a friend made through blogging.

I learned a lot about this man and his father because he was open and honest about his troublesome relationship with his father in the last years of his life.  I connected with his stories because I understand the trials of caregiving and I also understand the difficulty of remaining compassionate in trying times.

I remember so well when my own father died.  He was in his late nineties and had lived a full and fruitful life.  For the last twenty of those years, he became more and more physically dependent on me because I was the daughter who lived near him.  We didn’t quarrel.  We didn’t fuss. And yet I had some regrets when he was gone.  There were times when I resented retiring from my business and giving up my own activities because the care of he and his wife became the more important than holidays with grandchildren and trips with friends.  There were many times when fatigue and irritation threatened compassion.

Yet, overall, I knew that he died well and our relationship on this earth ended with grace.

This is a gift. It is good when who we are is more important than what we are doing, when we can be who we want to be and acquit ourselves honorable. It doesn’t make loss better, but it leaves out the guilt component which amplifies grief exponentially.

I’m thankful for this reminder from across the globe.

xxoo