Life had presented us with a choice: we could accept the “tragedy narrative” that fit so seamlessly with our overpowering sense of loss or we could tell a new story. Because of our experience being with and learning from elders, and our openness to learning from people living with dementia, we knew there was a new story waiting to be told.
Grief is opening me up to the real cost of life. The impermanence of everything, the fleeting moment, the embrace that always ends, these are the things I live for, cannot hold, and that make me grateful for my existence.
Grief days seem to take away my certainty, they deliver me unwillingly to the realization of my transcience, to the very place where I merge with the river and become what I’ve always wanted to be — myself, and an essence of the Mystery behind it all.
There seems to be a relationship between grief and praise. I am finding that I am experiencing more loss, thus more grief, as I am coming back to life.