Gratitude

Today, Waynesville laid to rest one of its own mothers.  She wasn’t given any choice in the matter, but like most mothers, I suspect Nichole Reeves would have unflinchingly lay down her own life in exchange for her daughter’s, even before she had the privilege of giving birth to her.

I have come to the conclusion that second to the death of a child, a mother dying from gestational complications and never meeting her newborn’s gaze, much less knowing her, even for a day, is simply one of the greatest magnitudes of loss.  Things like this happen in country songs or on an episode of Downton Abbey, not in real life anymore.

But they do and they did.

Those with faith would say that we don’t know God’s plan and for reasons we don’t understand it was her time.  I envy that faith.  Despite having a keen awareness that life is anything but fair, I still have found myself asking over and over this week, “How can life be so unfair?”

I hiked to Rams Head today, my favorite spot on St. John. This beautiful island has a horrific distant past. Stories only the souls of slaves could tell with any honesty. These days, the air on this cliff is not filled with the pain and cruelty of the past but of the solace that only Mother Nature can provide. The kind of solace I hope only the afterlife can bring with any permanency.

It was a fitting place to end a wonderful week of making memories with my own family.  Memories that death will not ever rob from my little ones, even if I should leave them today.

The tragedy of our community was a painful reminder to give my memories the power they rightfully deserve over my grief.  And just as importantly, a reminder to make the very best of the moments I have with my own children.  They are truly numbered no matter how long any of us have here, and within them lives our own immortality.