Monday, November 10, 2014

Dancing With the Dead

Sometimes a happy life can feel like hell.

Really. This is what we signed up for: a life fully lived.

It's like getting a kitten, or a puppy. At some point you realize that the cuteness and comedy, the warm, fuzzy love all come with a terrible price. You will love this animal who has a short life span, and therefore, one day this animal will break your heart.

You can withdraw from life, and endure the loneliness and sense of waste. Or you can embrace this world, brokenness and all, and cook and eat, sing your songs, swing your partner, fall in love - and know, absolutely know, that one day it will break your heart.

And when it does, you can choose finally to withdraw, and endure the loneliness and sense of waste.

Or you can embrace your wounds, sing a softer song, dance so slowly you seem to stand still. You can still fall in love, even though ...

2 comments:

Megan Sayer said...

It must be the season for it. Maybe it's a November thing.

This same week, a year ago, my youngest son got it in his head that he wanted to invite a little boy from church to his birthday party, and I had the slightly uncomfortable job of going up to a stranger, a man I said hi to and smiled at every week, but didn't know his name, and introducing myself and inviting him to a 5yo's birthday party.
They came, and came for lunch the next day, and then joined our connect group, and our boys became fast friends, and WE became fast friends.
It's my son's 6th birthday party on Saturday. Our friends are coming, of course, and then they'll come back to our place afterwards, of course, and we'll have coffee, and then when they go we'll wae them goodbye and we'll cry much more than we're comfortable with and hug them for an extra-long time, because after they leave our place they'll be driving north with all their things to catch the boat to the mainland where their new house, new jobs, new lives await.

I don't like that it hurts this much. If we had never invited them to the birthday party last year this never would have happened.

I'm glad we did though.

I never used to be good at mourning. Maybe it's something you need to be taught how to do, or at least given permission, told that it's okay. I know now though that, in the same way that Jesus said "blessed are those who mourn because they shall be comforted", it also means "not-blessed are those who do not mourn, because they can't ever be comforted".

I wonder who my son will want to invite to his birthday party next year...

Sharon K. Souza said...

Megan, what a perfect story to go along with today's post. It's very touching. I'm not at all surprised that you would invite a stranger into your world, and develop a close friendship out of that. It's who you are, dear friend.