... take these broken wings and learn to fly ...
My Great-Grandfather passed away this weekend. It was one of those things that you know will happen, have been anticipating for years, but when it does, you're kind of suprised. I was in Sherman Oaks watching Garden State with Megan, and my brother kept calling me and finally I answered the phone, and he told me. And I was fine, reflective, phillosophical, until this morning, and I was telling my Math teacher I would be missing class on Thursday because of the funeral, and I started crying, out of nowhere.
And this is the time of year when we reflect, turn inward, and ponder the mystery of death, and life, and rebirth. A never ending cycle, so strong and determined, but at the same time fragile and fleeting. So as one generation passes into the next realm, another is ready to be born and start fresh.
Mourning is such a selfish act. We are sad because of what we have lost, we fear the future when more of our loved ones must leave us, and we dread the day when it will be us, because it's the beginning of eternity, a concept which causes even the strongest souls to shudder, and waver, and wonder if they really have been right all this time. We should rejoice. We should celebrate the life that was, and the lessons learned, and why was this person so important, so special, and what we will miss the most, because they have such unique gifts that will never be fulfilled through another.
I keep wondering, why was I born as ME, at this time, in this country, to these parents, and why is my brother MY brother? Why am I white, and not black, or asian, or hispanic? Why do I believe what I believe, and why were my experiences more important for me to learn than anyone elses?
So now I ask: why was this person in my life, and most importantly, what did I learn from their presence? And in a week I will honor my ancestors, and reflect on what they have given my family and myself, and what can be learned. I will ask why my brother is in his situation, and why I was chosen to be his sister. What must I learn from my experience with Cathy? Why are my friends my friends???
It's not important that I know the answers now, just important that I recognize the need to ask them.
Marcelle
And this is the time of year when we reflect, turn inward, and ponder the mystery of death, and life, and rebirth. A never ending cycle, so strong and determined, but at the same time fragile and fleeting. So as one generation passes into the next realm, another is ready to be born and start fresh.
Mourning is such a selfish act. We are sad because of what we have lost, we fear the future when more of our loved ones must leave us, and we dread the day when it will be us, because it's the beginning of eternity, a concept which causes even the strongest souls to shudder, and waver, and wonder if they really have been right all this time. We should rejoice. We should celebrate the life that was, and the lessons learned, and why was this person so important, so special, and what we will miss the most, because they have such unique gifts that will never be fulfilled through another.
I keep wondering, why was I born as ME, at this time, in this country, to these parents, and why is my brother MY brother? Why am I white, and not black, or asian, or hispanic? Why do I believe what I believe, and why were my experiences more important for me to learn than anyone elses?
So now I ask: why was this person in my life, and most importantly, what did I learn from their presence? And in a week I will honor my ancestors, and reflect on what they have given my family and myself, and what can be learned. I will ask why my brother is in his situation, and why I was chosen to be his sister. What must I learn from my experience with Cathy? Why are my friends my friends???
It's not important that I know the answers now, just important that I recognize the need to ask them.
Marcelle