Day 45 Balance after a fall

When you watch the Olympics there are athletes who balance on a narrow beam of wood.  I suppose I consider all gymnasts to be superhuman but for some reason I always marvel at those girls finding equilibrium on the thinnest of surfaces.   While I have no specific knowledge about any sporting competition, I suspect they are attempting to stabilize their body throughout the routine.  When they turn, spin and jump they are constantly monitoring their weight and something as simple as a turn of the wrist, the angle of the neck and exact placement of the hip makes the difference between finding balance and falling into disgrace.

I have felt a bit off center these last few months since the death of my father.  I get confused about his absence and feel uncontrollably emotional.  I almost selected a Father’s Day card in June.  And I find myself preparing to tell him things I think will amuse and entertain him.  I don’t believe there was anything specific left unsaid but I suppose I just miss him and wonder . . . all the things people wonder when grieving excruciating loss.   My Spiritual Director recently acknowledged the significance of this death by expressing the thought that our parents are “constellations in the universe of our lives.  They are fixed and reliable, like a star that identifies our location.”

Perhaps when a parent dies we lose our bearings, something shifts in our own personal galaxy and we feel like we are falling off the beam.   I suspect the aftermath of a death is a time in one’s life of lost balance but if I just remember the lessons my father taught me and apply those teachings slowly, carefully.  If I monitor subtle movements of emotion and the specific distribution of tears, memory and laughter I might find myself back on top.  Moving through the world like gymnast who leaps off a narrow strip of wood and lands perfectly on the surface of the earth.

You will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. 
You will grieve for a time
but your grief will be turned into joy. 
When a woman is in labor
she is sad that her time has come. 
When she has born her child,
she no longer remembers her pain f
or joy that a human being has been born into the world. 
In the same way you are sad for a time
but I shall see you again
and then your hearts will rejoice
will a joy no one can take from you.
This entry was posted in Catholic, Christianity, Dreams, family life, God, Jesus, Love and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Day 45 Balance after a fall

  1. Virginia J. Martinet says:

    Beautifully said, Father. My step dad died at a young age, 55. My mom passed at age 63.
    Although, I was an adult;; wife and mother, I felt orphaned. Strange, yet obvious, that I would
    feel such a sense of abandonment when my life was so full. Sense I’ve reconnected with God
    through my faith, I no longer feel abandoned. I feel peaceful in the knowledge that we will be
    together again.

  2. Jim Heitzig says:

    Like you, I too have wanted to tell my mother and father things that I know they would be thrilled to hear or see. I remember their birthdays and anniversaries and wish them the best. I often wonder about them, what they are doing, how heaven is like and whether they see my deceased brother and son. Funny thing, though, I often talk to them, trying to find the balance now that they are not around anymore. And I continue to pray for them just like I always did before when they were around. Some times they seem closer than ever. And I pray every day for your ministry because of the balance it brings into my life every day.

  3. billgncs says:

    my dad died about thirteen years ago, and still some days something interesting happens and I pull out my phone to call him and tell him.

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