After my Dad died suddenly on January 25th, for a while there was a rush of likes and comments on my Facebook posts, and I felt so supported and loved. That flurry of positive attention really boosted me up, but then, when it went away I felt deflated… And then, when even some of my closest relatives no longer replied to my emails, I felt abandoned, misunderstood, hurt, and confused about my writing path…
Well, a few mornings ago, my Mom, who is grieving the loss of her love of 54 years, was reading an article about a young boy, Juliek, who played his violin in a Nazi camp (documented by Elie Wiesel in his memoir, Night), and my sweet, sweet Momma said, listen to this, it was written for you, to inspire you to keep writing:
“And we, ourselves, play Juliek’s violin – when we offer ourselves, our full selves, to a work which goes unseen, to an audience unable to respond, even in the face of profound darkness, because the offering itself is lasting and good.”
Later that day, while lying down enduring some unpleasant Fibromyalgia symptoms, I thought, “What if I die in the next year? Have I done all that I want to do? Would I have any regrets?” Here are the answers that arose ~
~ If I die in the next year, I only wish that I would have chanted more.
~ I am pleased with the goodness that I have offered the world through my sons Zak and Gabe, and through writing books and blog posts.
~ I pray that my sons will enjoy offering goodness to the world in their own unique ways.
If you die in the next year, have you done all that you want to do? How have you offered goodness to the world?
With much love,
Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash.