Monday, July 28, 2014
Rob, Carolyn, Diana, Collin, and the rest of the Sears family, please remember that you're all in our thoughts and hearts anyway, just a bit more than average this week.
When we have talked about death with our kids in the past, they often ask a lot of questions along the lines of, "Is she really gone forever?" or, "Why does it hurt so much?" I've found that the kind of explanation that seems to resonate best with them is to remind them of what makes a family: Love. And whenever we love someone, a little piece of that person magically becomes a part of our own heart, and at the same time a little piece of us magically becomes a part of theirs. Geography, arguments, time, change...these are all things that can complicate life, but once someone is family, they're always family, and that heart-connection remains.
So, yes, death means forever, but no, she's not just instantly, completely gone. That little piece of her is still in your heart, and it hurts right now because it's an injury, just not visible from the outside. It's kind of like a bruise to the soul, I guess, and just like regular bruises and scrapes, it hurts the most in the first few days and weeks. Over time, you will heal and start to feel better, because that's how we're built. We recover from things, even if they seem completely overwhelming at the beginning, sometimes so slowly it feels like nothing is happening, and other times so quickly we wonder if there's something wrong with us, for feeling better too soon. And one day, you'll think of your loved one, and instead of instantly feeling that huge heartache and sadness, you will smile instead, because you will have recalled a happy moment, or you'll feel a sense of comfort because you were so very, very lucky that you were able to know and love this fantastic human being.
That's the goal, I think: to leave this life knowing that you had a positive impact on people you care about, that you loved and were loved in return, and that you always have that little piece of your loved one in your heart...and that even if you weren't in the same room, you still were with her - right there inside her heart - when she died and in all of the wonderful moments beforehand.
For what it's worth, our kids (not to mention Willem and I) have been able to find some comfort in that thought, and I hope very much that you are able to find a similar sense of comfort among the words you hear/read/say in the next few days, whether it's this note or a conversation or a beautiful sunset. I also hope you are all able to remember that there is no such thing as the "right" way to feel, think, or grieve. However you are feeling right now, that's the right way for you to feel. Please be gentle with you, and let others be gentle with you, too.
Be well, and we'll see you Tuesday,
Kate, Willem, Emily, Jacob & Isaac
