The Ongoing Gift of Grief

Roger Lynn is an experiential mystic – lover of life – photographer – flute player – poet – hiker – hot spring soaker – expresser of gratitude – blessed beyond the capacity of words to express. He currently lives in Boulder, CO.

I’d love to hear from you!

mystery@rogerlynn.com

I was just reading something that sparked a memory of the grief I experienced when my wife died. And grief, being the multi-faceted thing that it is, then led me down a path of reflecting on then versus now, which then opened up the awareness that I am still “in grief” (and always will be) but now it looks and feels almost completely different from what it did then. I am a person who has been touched by the loss of someone I loved, and that experience (which, as I said, is ongoing) has forever shaped my life. Whether it is obvious or not, whether I even notice or not, my life will always carry that mark. As Carrie Newcomer says in her song “Before and After”,

We live our lives from then until now,
By the mercy received and the marks on our brow
To my heart I’ll collect what the four winds will scatter
And frame my life by before and after.

It is true that every moment, every action, every experience of our lives impacts and shapes us in some way or another. But there are some experiences which take on “before and after” threshold status. They become landmarks along the path of our lives. These days, 14+ years after Veronica’s death, I often go days, weeks, and sometimes even months without much active awareness of that loss. But it is never very far from the surface, and it will always be a significant force which continues to shape the person I am and the person I am becoming. And I would not want it to be any other way. I count it as a profound gift to be so marked. I carry that mark with a deep sense of gratitude. I will strive to live my life in such a way that I continue to honor the gift. And so I take a deep breath and step once again into the Mystery.

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3 Comments

  1. Star Jameson

    Thank you Roger. This is my experience with the loss of my son many years ago and losing the love of my grand life to dementia. Both pulse within me urging me to compassion, and yes some days I do not feel them as much. They have formed who I am today as surely as rain grows grass. I am so grateful.

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  2. Barb Barnes

    A sacred mark… To be treasured

    Reply
  3. Randy

    14+ years wow. Doesn’t feel so long. But then these things are somehow long ago yet ever present. Like the moments I have when I think, oh, Mom (7 years gone) would really like that, or Dad (28 years gone) would really like that.

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