Jack died.
Jack is our neighbour across the lane. He died last week at the age of 69, not enough years but years lived fully. His wife Rosa is heart-broken, and surrounded by her daughters and their children, but still so, so lonely.
Yesterday there was a mass for Jack at the sweet little Catholic church down the road. I had a nice cry of gratitude that the church offers so much solace and rite and ritual for grief. There are words and actions for everybody to follow as they work their way through the loss and get to the other side of death, where Life continues for all, even Jack if we've guessed right.
For most certainly, a funeral reminds me that we are gazing into a darkened mirror, and all of this is guessing. We're of course reminded that we do best to guess in the direction of love. We've got hope, faith and love and love is the very best of the three. We can hope like crazy, and choose faith like we're crazy, but in the end, loving is where we'll lose our crazy. Oh, love.
Raising kids on love is some damned hard work though.
This week, I'd have preferred to be raising kids with JOY!! or FUN!! or AWESOME!! But those have been in such short supply around here. We are in the depths and we don't know up from down most days. We hope like crazy that this isn't going to sink us. We are faking faith when we can't summon up the real thing. And we're choosing love as often as we can. But love is... steady. Sturdy maybe. But not necessarily light-hearted. Not hilarious particularly. Our worn-out, tired love feels a bit threadbare.
The hope and faith is that the love remains. That it is fuelled by source that is eternal and unending.
I just kind of wish that instead it was fuelled by cotton candy and Red Bull. We need some of that too-sweet-love. The kind that rots your teeth, but feels so good.
The thing is, it isn't cotton candy, Red Bull love that Rosa is weeping over tonight. She's not missing how FUN!! and AWESOME!! Jack was. She's missing the sureness of him. The slow, steady certainly that he was hers.
Sigh.
