By Kim Aasland (September 2021)
Some people never get to meet their children on this earth;
their pain is hidden and dismissed
Some only get one to two decades;
and their parents must endure the agony of outliving them.
Some people’s children suffer deeply
Some thrive
And many are somewhere in between
But here’s the thing
Everyone dies
Every week the gravestones speak to me
They say
greater revelation awaits
don’t pin your hope here
there is more
In the meantime I sit in my human condition
Absorbing pain and joy, despair and hope
Knowing the some day I, too, will be placed in the earth and
my spirit will be free
You journey with me
You visit me in my dreams
You left so much for me to read
And ponder
In some ways it’s like you are still here
And in many others it is like you are in that cloud of witnesses cheering me on, willing me to live my days well, assuring me that this isn’t the end
What have you missed?
Many people not being able to breathe
Anger, turmoil, disruption, despair
But also kainos and bravery and determination to carry on
and laugh despite knowing
That everyone die
Apart from Me 