It isn’t until we’ve suffered a great loss that we see our mortality close up and personal. Right now, we’re writing the story of our lives, but we can not grasp that it’s in disappearing ink.
And then, a loved one makes their transition and sometimes it can feel like “What happened? Where did he go? How did that happen?”
All we know is this life. One breath after another, one step after another, one life event after another. We march through without recognizing how finite this life is and how every breath, step and event will one day be memories.
This is something I struggle with every time a loved one dies.
The other day I was at a restaurant where my late friend and I had a wonderful lunch the year she died. I looked at “our” table–yes, I remember it–and I even remember where we were sitting. I can even pull up how it felt to be there with her.
What I CAN’T fathom is that she is gone. She has disappeared.
Our mortality is, arguably, the hardest reality we ever have to face. No one gets out of here alive. No one. Not even us.
But is that such a bad thing?
Sure, we’ll miss those we leave behind. But if we have a belief in something more, transition is likely to be an amazing thing. And if it’s all about love and peace? And if our lost loved ones greet us?
What’s so bad about that? It would be a refreshing change from the travails of our earth.
Here’s the thing: we’re all moving on one day and while we don’t like to think about it, making peace with that fact allows us to live our lives here more fully.
Mortality is the hardest thing we face. But face it we must one day. Why not learn to make peace with it now?