Message written and delivered at the Camp Ray of Hope Sunday morning spiritual gathering September 17, 2006.
When I was a child I loved the water. Water gave me great joy as I waded and splashed and paddled or drifted in the sunlight . As I grew older I lost that avid desire to play in the water but came to appreciate the beauty and restfulness of a lakeside or ocean side scene. I learned to appreciate the waves that lapped at the shore, the sunlight sparkle on the surface, and the sounds of children’s laughter when they played as I once had. As a child I felt fortunate that I was a pretty decent swimmer and did not have a fear of the water like many of my friends did. To me it was like a good friend – to be respected but to bring joy and good memories.
On the afternoon my husband died and I found his body I felt almost paralyzed – even though I went through the motions and did what I had to at the moment – many of you know the feeling. A heavy, heavy curtain fell over me and it was almost as if I were buried or drowning. It was so heavy I was not sure I could even put one foot in front of the other. My mind ran wild but my body said STOP! I could not feel! I remember sitting in the kitchen with my mother and aunt, who had also tragically lost a husband many years before, and they both said “Go take a shower Dale, you will feel better.” A shower, I thought, that is the LAST thing on my mind right now. But for a lack of knowing what else to do – I took a shower. There, in that private space, with the water flowing over my body I felt comforted. It was as if the water was washing away all the contamination of the day. It was if the water was giving me new energy and cleansing me of grief. It was there I shed my first tears. I remember hearing my mother say, from the kitchen, she is crying now, and my aunt said good! She needs to do that. As I heard those words and felt the water wash away my flood of tears I knew that water was and would be my friend once again!
I found solace near the water in the months that followed. Sometimes I would drive long distances just to be near the ocean and to watch the waves crash onto the shore. I wondered why I felt drawn there – was it because I began my physical existence immersed in warm amniotic fluid where I was safe and protected by my mother’s love and acceptance? Was this the closest I could get to my Creator in my crazy world of grief? I did not know, but I had learned to follow my heart and made my way to the water to re-nourish my spirit every chance I could!
In the years since I have been asked many times how I got through that time in my life and as I sort through all the ways – the water, my faith, family, friends, books, exercise – it all comes down to one simple answer. Either you do or you die! I chose to live! With most things in life we have choices, and how you get through your grief journey is also your choice. Will you be like the river where living creatures flourish, where trees grow and bear fruit on the banks, where beauty abounds and life is ever-changing? Or, will you be like the swamps and marshes that are stagnant? Will you use all your energy to dam back your tears and to harbor your anger until you have no energy left to embrace the beauty around you? Will you flood your body with toxic fluids to numb yourself from the pain – only to wake the next day to know the pain is still there – so you do the same thing day after day?
God gave us life. He created it within us, around us, above us and below us. You can avoid it, but do you want to? Or, can you flow with it? Can you face the challenges it brings? Can you drink in its beauty? Learn when to swim and when to rest and drift? Can you grasp the hand of another person who is struggling to make their way? Can you face the storm and find a rainbow? I think you can!
