Miss M brought home a reminder about the blood drive at her school next week. I mentioned that I really should try to donate (assuming my iron was high enough.) She and her brother, nervous about needles, were incredulous.
I explained to them that it was my duy to try to donate. I am physically capable of it and emotionally predisposed (meaning it doesn't freak me out to do it) so it's my responsibility, as a member of the Long Island community and sometimes the wider US community to donate blood.
I don't know if they understood but maybe I planted a seed.
When they got on the bus I came in and turned on coverage of the September 11th commemoratives going on less than 50 miles from my home. I feel it's my duty to hold the space for those who remember each year and renew their grief as the anniversary of their loved ones death comes around.
I am physically capable of it and emotionally predisposed (meaning it doesn't stress me out excessively) so I am duty-bound, as a member of my community, to bear witness.
Today I offer this blessing from John O'Donohue:
When you lose someone you love,
Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you gets fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence.
Your heart has grown heavy with loss;
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one know s what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.
Flickers of guilt kindle regret
For all that was left unsaid or undone.
There are days when you wake happy,
Again inside the fullness of life,
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.
Days when you have your heart back
You are able to function well
Until, in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.
It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More that you, it knows its way,
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced itself to its last drop.
Gradually you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
To wean your eyes
From the gap in the air
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.
How do you comfort the grieving? How do you remember?
