Posted 1/27/2008 4:58 AM (GMT 0)
Bev, I suspect that your little brother Matthew shaped the lives of you and your other siblings, in some ways more than had he lived. I know that Sarah had a profound effect on both my first born daughter, who was four when Sarah died, and my youngest who was born 11 months after Sarah's death.
How wonderful that you have been able to let your mother share her memories with you. That is a gift. Just as the thoughts shared in this post have been a gift to me.
Sarita: I have long recognized that when strength is coupled with rigidity (the inability to bend and sway) it can become a weakness. Of course, I could see the quality of that particular kind of tensile strength in others (particularly women) but only recently have had to acknowledge that it lives within me as well. I have often held the belief that someone who can never acknowledge vulnerability, weakness or fear and who can never accept help, is exhibiting a kind of selfish strength. In acknowledging need and accepting help we bestow a great gift on those who care about us. By giving in to our weakness sometimes, we allow those around us to be strong. Can I share just a very small, but powerful personal example? The evening that Sarah died, my older daughter Samantha was acting up at bedtime and after a day of stocism in her presence, I just lost it. I remember sinking down on the side of her bed weeping. I was completely lost in my misery when I felt two small soft arms reach around my neck from the back. "I'm so sorry mommy," my daughter comforted me. "I know how much you miss Sarah. I miss her too."
That was the moment i began to heal. It was also a very powerful moment for Samantha because it opened the path for communicating emotions and information in the days to come.
The gift of weakness is vital, I think, to our own health. Especially those of us living with chronic illness. Strength is great. I am proud of my courage, my determination and my strength -- but not when those qualities allow me to deny my illness. Not when they lead me to ignore my reality. Then they become a dangerous weakness. Strength is only strength when it is balanced by the ability to give in. Otherwise it is just stubbornness, masquerading as strength.
Marie Claire: when I read your beautiful message it helped ease my conflict about whether it was appropriate to post this thread. Sharing the living experience of surviving loss -- whether it is a death, or a job, or an illness -- is so often considered a taboo in our culture, yet we have so much to learn from one another and so much comfort to give and receive.
That you got something from this post, feels like a validation of Sarah's short life in a way for me. That's where my faith grew from the midst of chilling confusion of her death. Knowing that the job of those left behind is to survive and live and grow and to take from our loss a renewed commitment to be the best person we can be. For me I've always thought that the only way to honour Sarah was to live and to learn the lessons that her death gave me the opportunity to absorb.
Cheers