I had a strange, introspective kind of day yesterday. I experienced some general malaise (or GM for short as I like to call it) on the weekend at the idea that spring break was over and normal life was once again underway. When I'm in a routine I like it, but when I get a break from it I like that too and find the transition challenging.
A friend from our BC days recently got in touch on Facebook, and sent me a link to a memorial site he created for his wife who passed away from cancer in 2005. We weren't close friends, but we went to the same church. We watched this family receive the diagnosis, trudge through the treatments, celebrate the remissions and then grieve through the relapses. Her cancer spread quickly and we could only stand by helplessly while three young boys lost their mother and a devoted husband said goodbye to his wife.
We brought meals, and prayed, and offered what practical help we could to this family in crisis. At the end it wasn't nearly enough. Every mom in that church held her kids tighter and spoke gentler words to them because we saw the evidence that we weren't guaranteed to do so forever. It was heartbreaking at the time, and looking at the website yesterday brought it all back. William asked me what was wrong when he saw tears streaming down my face yesterday morning, and I could only hug him and tell him how much I loved him.
It's hard to find words to describe how precious our days are. So often I waste my time complaining about things that don't matter at all. I get irritated by people who I shouldn't be wasting time with anyway, and I focus on the small things instead of looking at the big picture.
Sometimes I'm afraid to truly embrace all of the good parts of my life because I'm afraid of losing them. But I knew yesterday that I must work to let that go. Without embracing life in its fullness, the joy and the pain, I am not fully alive. I want to squeeze the last drop out of this gift of life. Time is short and today I am here. I want to make the most of it.