The grief of having children and then, the loss of these children. It is a disappearance into the sea. The overwhelm is of the grey and bright and the sinewy green gag of no breath when their lungs are no longer breathing with yours..
No one tells you that when you move into parenthood, no matter which way you fall into it. And no matter which way your children are lost- permanently or temporarily. They do not tell you that your lungs are forever bound with the child who you have loved. That there is no breath that can come in and out unless they are connected somehow .
Chinese medicine tells us that grief is held in the lungs and how we must shift grief brought up in our lungs into kindness.And so kindness, with its latent potency, is what we offer when there is loss.
This week we witness the public the loss of the daughter of the funny man, small trying to be large, and kind already from the loss of his wife. The man who was embraced by his remaining son, a huge towering figure holding his small dad. The embrace, it seemed , was held for as long as his son had breath to share with his father. The pressing of their bodies. It is not enough, the embrace, but it is something.
When my own husband had his lungs stripped of lining, his body could not withstand the treacherous healing.. Perhaps he could not find a way to hold the grief of his world with half a lung and so it was time for his exit. The mystery is there in the Akashic records. I did not write his exit story. There are no mistakes. But sometimes children cannot breathe the grief of love and loss. His daughter had lost her mother only a few years before. Perhaps she could not hold it. Perhaps she could not stay. Perhaps she could not find kindness.
And what of the epidemic of estrangement now between living parents and children? Perhaps it is part of the new order of the human race in this time of ascension. Perhaps we are not supposed to honor love and fight for understanding with every last breath. Perhaps we are not supposed to belong to a circle with gifts and responsibilities. Perhaps it is no longer important to recognize that respect and honor and nurturing of ourselves includes honoring all of ourselves, the root of love that was offered, even if that love proves too rich for indigestion.
Let us not waste time with fearing ourselves or stepping away out of pride, or the enormity of the task– embracing loss and revenge as a badge touted but not earned.
The point of grief is kindness. To ourselves . To others, To the world.
The point of living is to breathe and keep breathing with courage.
Please do not step away because of fad or ‘self care’. We are all responsible for each other. Always. Through eons of loss and healing . Eons of living life after life.
As my grandmother Rosie said to my mother when she had lost the first of three husbands, Live, Goddammit
