There is a time to Live and a Time to Die

There is no need to be afraid of death. It is not the end of the physical body that should worry us. Rather, our concern must be to live while we’re alive – to release our inner selves from the spiritual death that comes with living behind a façade designed to conform to external definitions of who and what we are. Every individual human being born on this earth has the capacity to become a unique and special person unlike any who has ever existed before or will ever exist again… When you live as if you’ll live forever, it becomes too easy to postpone the things you know that you must do. You live your life in preparation for tomorrow or in remembrance of yesterday, and meanwhile, each day is lost. In contrast, when you fully understand that each day you awaken could be the last you have, you take the time that day to grow, to become more of who you really are, to reach out to other human beings.

--Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, 1926 – 2004


So I still continue to be involved with our neighbors in the tragic suicide of our friend Dan.  Last night I officiated his internment.  His family had a funeral the weekend after his death.  And they were cremating his body because his parents wanted to lay him to rest in Pennsylvania and his family here wanted him in Florida.  So they split the ashes.  The boys actually wanted a plot where they could come and visit him and where it would be memorialized.  So that service happened last evening and I was the officiant.  

Yes, I was intimidated.  But then I realized that I knew exactly what to do.  This family was rushing to get the initial funeral done.  And then they've had the focus on this goodbye.  But basically, it has been five weeks of preparing to say goodbye--and just not wanting to do that.  So I knew my message needed to be about letting go. 

After some opening words (my own way of calling in the natural elements of air, fire, water and earth), I read a poem that was entitled, "Miss Me But Let Me Go."  That set the tone--and I talked about it pretty openly.  Then I  worked on the other thing that I was hoping that they could reframe.  There had been so much focus on his tragic and awful death.  But I calculated that the time of his great distress was only 1/1000th of his life.  I encouraged them to focus on how he lived and not how he died.  I ended with the Ecclesiastes poem about how there is a time for everything and I promised them that there will be a time for them to dance again.  And then we put his ashes in the ground and had everyone put flowers with their love and energy into them. 

It was difficult, but it was also very appropriate and even beautiful.  I really hope it brings some peace to the family, who are still really struggling.

So I've done a wedding, a funeral and about a dozen Sunday services.  Can this be considered on-the-job training for my next career as a minister? 

My final words from last night:

 

He is Gone by David Harkins

You can shed tears that he is gone,

Or you can smile because he lived,

You can close your eyes and pray that he will come back,

Or you can open your eyes and see all that he has left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see him

Or you can be full of the love that you shared,

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,

Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember him and only that he is gone

Or you can cherish his memory and let it live on,

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back,

Or you can do what he would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on

1 Step Back and 2 Steps Forward

We should not feel embarrassed by our difficulties, only by our failure to grow anything beautiful from them.   --Alain de Botton

2011 and 2012 have been a dramatic and traumatic time in our family.  While we all have struggled, my youngest son has had a very challenging last 12 months.  I'm STILL waiting for my drama-free, calm, uneventful 2012 to kick in.  There's still time, right?

I could focus on that--and dwell on the negatives in his life and how they are not over yet.  But I'm not going to.  Instead, I'm going to focus on all the great things that have happened this week for him.  I'm trying the approach of putting my energy into the places that I want more of rather than dwelling on things that I want less of (you could also look at it as another way of saying I'm putting my head in the sand, but I prefer the more enlightened version of the story).

His band is rocking!  This week alone, they've gotten band photos, got a recording date for next weekend and gotten two gigs (HS Talent Show and the 3pm slot at a Catholic Church fall festival--gotta start somewhere!). 

He worked all day yesterday (like literally 12 hours) to get through all the tests and studying and courses to get his Learner's Permit and got it this evening.  We started driving right away and he did really well.  And, while I try not to compare my children, I think teaching this one to drive will be much less stressful than teaching my elder one (he's calmer, and I've already been broken in). 

He's just doing a lot of things right.  He's cheerfully doing his chores, getting his grades higher, and just generally being more agreeable.

Without getting into details, this child has had some obstacles the last 18 months.  I'm just so glad to see him have some successes as well.  And, we'll still have challenges ahead, but I'm focusing on what is good. 

Good job, Eric!

Conflict--The Uncomfortable Gift

When we value being cool and in control over granting ourselves the freedom to unleash the passionate, goofy, heartfelt, and soulful expressions of who we are, we betray ourselves. When we consistently betray ourselves, we can expect to do the same to the people we love.  

~ Brené Brown

So it is probably time to return back to the great words of Brene Brown. 

As I've been working on myself this year, I've discovered some odd obstacles.  I've spent so long listening to everyone else--what is important to them, what they need, what they believe.  And my history is to take that in and find ways to incorporate that into what I'm doing. 

This comes up most commonly when there is conflict. I was taught early on to avoid any kind of conflict. Avoid it if possible. If not, then bend and accomodate it so that it goes away. And, accompanied with that is the charming ability that I have (sarcasm intended) to take that conflict personally--if someone disagrees, then there must be something wrong with me or I feel that they are judging me. 

I have very little practice in stopping and thinking--what do I want/believe/need/think about that situation.  I've done a better job of doing that afterwards (yeah, me), but I still suck at doing it in the moment.  Which means I need to step back, reflect, and then go back and address the situation--which is FAR harder than doing it right there in the moment. 

What I'm learning, is that I have to lean into that conflict.  Address it as the tool that it is:  a way to better understand someone and to be understood myself.  Check out the assumptions you're having.  Look at what it is that you are really feeling (doing it in real-time would be ideal, but maybe not possible) and then state that. 

Conflict--the uncomfortable gift. 

I Am In Need of Music

I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,
Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,
A song to fall like water on my head,
And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!
There is a magic made by melody:
A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and cool
Heart, that sinks through fading colors deep
To the subaqueous stillness of the sea,
And floats forever in a moon-green pool,
Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep.

--Elizabeth Bishop, 1911 - 1979


I need music.  It is as simple as that. 

When I was living in the house with Robb, we put off several major improvements, instead getting the house wired for music--so I could have it in all the rooms. 

When I was in the apartment, I discovered Sonos, a wireless speaker system, that would let me play music in my two main rooms--the living room and my bedroom. 

Here at the treehouse, one of the priorities was setting up my music here.  After Dan died, it became almost an obsession--if I could just get music throughout the treehouse then I could feel better.  I went to Best Buy and dropped $700 on two more speakers to get music wired through the entire treehouse.  And it did make me happy.

I don't just want a music player in each room--I want to be able to go from room to room and hear the music in each room.  I know it is crazy, but it drives me nuts if a song I really like is playing in one room and then I have to leave it for a song I really don't like.  The Sonos system lets me play my Pandora and hear it in the whole house.

It's funny to see this trait in my boys as well.  Eric falls to sleep with music every night.  Kyle won't shower without music playing.  Last week, it was sad because every shower was with Dave Matthew's "Gravedigger."  After the funeral, he came home and played the slow version of "Mad World" over and over again.  Music is the soundtrack for them as well. 

Music is not just a nice to have for me.  It is essential, especially in difficult times.  It calms my nerves, it makes me happy, it distracts me, it lifts me up.  Music is the background of my life. 

Things Aren't As They Seem

Sorrow makes us all children again - destroys all differences of intellect. The wisest know nothing. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson


It's been a hell of a week. 

I think that actually could be an understatement.  This family has been very upset about the tragedy of our neighbor family.  The boys have been distracted and have had a hard time at school.  We've all gotten sick with colds from the emotional stress.  We've tried to help where we could, but have felt absolutely impotent with how little we can actually do. 

But we've pulled together as we could.  I'm so grateful that Robb and I have braved the divorce with civility and compassion.  It has served us well this week as we've joined forces to help where we could.  But I've looked at some moments of this week and just seen them as surreal. 

So picture this.  It is Saturday and we've arrived at the viewing.  The four Haskins are in front of the casket, crying.  Robb and I have our arms around our boys as they are so sad seeing their neighbor and friends' father.  We look like the old Haskins family--all dressed up, the model of a close family, comforting and affectionate. 

And, in that time of grief, we were there for each other.  But behind that picture of domestic divorce bliss, there are the realities of our new lives.  The struggles between Kyle and Robb.  The fact that Robb is getting more serious in his new relationship (and would change his relationship status the next day--but not before defriending me), and that Eric is still angry at all of us.

All that is true.  But in that moment of pain and grief, it was the absolutely natural thing to come up to the casket together, to put our arms around each other and to cry.