Grief and loss on this place called Earth

I heard something really beautiful on a podcast today that I need to share with you.
It helped me.
"Reality is another word for truth, God's business. And on this place called Earth things happen, and they are always axioms of truth. That the Earth does not have an earthquake because it is trying to punish someone, that someone wasn't moral, that it was their number that was up. This Earth functions the way that this Earth does because that's what happens with planets. And transposing a story about what's happened on this place called Earth is irrational. Because on this place that we live in, where we don't have a choice, that reality is there are fires, and there are floods, and there are car accidents, and there are babies that die, and people get cancer. So I think that what complicates grief isn't what happens to an individual, it's what they are saying about that. It's their own account. It's their disposition towards it. So in other words taking the loss and personalizing the reasons for the loss. When loss happens that is just how it is here. And it doesn't ask for our permission, it doesn't ask for our vote. It doesn't ask for our opinion. It just happens. And asking the question why did this happen is usually a very simple response. And the response is let's go back to how this "game" is played. Out here in this world we are forms. We are physical forms. And there are many facets to us, but these physical forms live, and then in one moment they suffer and injury. And their bodies cannot compensate for the injury, then the form shuts down, and then it changes form. And that is what everyone's story is going to be when they die. Whether it's dying of cancer, or dying precipitously in a car accident, or whether you just die of old age. But at one moment all of us are going to encounter that we lived, and then our form suffered an injury, the injury was too great for the form to compensate, and then the form changes form, and the soul goes home. Wherever home is for that individual."

Mom and Dad

On our mantel, above the TV in the living room is a black and white photograph of my parents. It was from a time, several years before I was born, that my mom got into developing her own film, hence the picture being black and white, instead of color.

The picture is of my mom with a corn snake around her neck, laughing. My dad is standing beside her, a neutral expression on his face, staring at her. Despite the fact that he isn’t smiling, he has this look in his eyes. Like he is crazy about my mother. It was before they were married.

The picture sums up their relationship pretty well. In fact, most pictures of them look like this. My mom always clearly happy, my dad looking at her in awe. They have been married 22 years this may, and to this day mom claims that she would never choose anyone else to spend her life with. The last time she mentioned this my dad got tears in his eyes.

My mother recently went on sabbatical to Namibia Africa. After my dad dropped her off at the airport he called me, his voice all shaky, telling me that this will be the longest he’s been away from her since they were married. He has decided to go be with her in Africa for the remainder of her trip, and he will leave in three weeks.

I often find myself caught up in their love story, envying the fact that they have each found their soulmate. I feel blessed to have them around me, to have parents that are still in love after what I consider a very long time. Each time I see that picture I am reminded that the are people in the world that have the love out of story books. That it isn’t as impossible as it may seem to find the love of your life.