Saturday, September 04, 2004
A time to live and a time to die
Today the balance of life was dramatized before me. Matthew and I were driving to Merritt to see family. Normally it's a 2 hour trip, but today it became more than 4 hours as we were stopped in a long line of cars for more than 2 hours. Judging by the police and ambulance vehicles passing us all I knew there had been a serious accident.
After our long wait on the mountain highway, we slowly began moving. Three lanes converged to two, with police officers guiding traffic. Up ahead I could tell there was still wreckage on the road. As we travelled closer I began to look toward the wreckage, to see how bad things were, hoping that it was just a "fender bender" and they authorities were being thorough. Matthew began to look as well. On the left I saw pieces of a motorcycle, then my eye was caught by a bright yellow tarp on the ground. Sticking out from under the tarp was a boot, toe pointing in the air. I quietly and quickly told Matthew to look to the other side of the road. He asked why and I told him that some things should not be seen by children. I was afraid he wouldn't obey, but he did. I watched him carefully, to protect him from the scene.
Shortly after passing through the scene we came upon a rest area, and stopped for a much needed bathroom break. Normally a women's bathroom line-up is a relaxed place, often filled with conversation. No one spoke a word, and it was obvious by everyone's expressions that they had noticed the same thing as I. The delicateness of this life was played out before us. We were sobered and respectful of the power of life and death.
But then a mom came in with a little baby. She was the sun we needed. She looked around at us and smiled the kind of grin that only innocence can give. We laughed. We watched her mom nurture her. When the mom was having difficulties balancing the baby with washing her hands, I offered to hold the child, thankful that the mom said yes. I held her and smiled, allowing that moment to soothe the reminder of what I had just seen.
To everything there is a season. A time to live and a time to die. In a way I have seen both today. For the family of the man on the bike death has come to them. Those who have survived him may feel that they too are dead. The mourning is necessary. The pause is required. And yet it can't stop there. We all have choices.
I've been saying this in many ways lately, and don't fully understand why. But today the lesson came again. And so I have to say it once more, this time over and over.
Choose life. Choose life. Choose life. Choose life. Choose life. Do you get it? I will say it again until you do...until I do.
I'm not editing this blog. Just listen.
After our long wait on the mountain highway, we slowly began moving. Three lanes converged to two, with police officers guiding traffic. Up ahead I could tell there was still wreckage on the road. As we travelled closer I began to look toward the wreckage, to see how bad things were, hoping that it was just a "fender bender" and they authorities were being thorough. Matthew began to look as well. On the left I saw pieces of a motorcycle, then my eye was caught by a bright yellow tarp on the ground. Sticking out from under the tarp was a boot, toe pointing in the air. I quietly and quickly told Matthew to look to the other side of the road. He asked why and I told him that some things should not be seen by children. I was afraid he wouldn't obey, but he did. I watched him carefully, to protect him from the scene.
Shortly after passing through the scene we came upon a rest area, and stopped for a much needed bathroom break. Normally a women's bathroom line-up is a relaxed place, often filled with conversation. No one spoke a word, and it was obvious by everyone's expressions that they had noticed the same thing as I. The delicateness of this life was played out before us. We were sobered and respectful of the power of life and death.
But then a mom came in with a little baby. She was the sun we needed. She looked around at us and smiled the kind of grin that only innocence can give. We laughed. We watched her mom nurture her. When the mom was having difficulties balancing the baby with washing her hands, I offered to hold the child, thankful that the mom said yes. I held her and smiled, allowing that moment to soothe the reminder of what I had just seen.
To everything there is a season. A time to live and a time to die. In a way I have seen both today. For the family of the man on the bike death has come to them. Those who have survived him may feel that they too are dead. The mourning is necessary. The pause is required. And yet it can't stop there. We all have choices.
I've been saying this in many ways lately, and don't fully understand why. But today the lesson came again. And so I have to say it once more, this time over and over.
Choose life. Choose life. Choose life. Choose life. Choose life. Do you get it? I will say it again until you do...until I do.
I'm not editing this blog. Just listen.
// posted by Annette @ 7:44 p.m. 
Comments:
<< Home
today seems to be a day of reminders for many. no, i didn't see anything like you did, but my insides feel like i did.
choosing life.....and everything that comes with it. that choice is the hardest to make. keep saying it annette.
choosing life.....and everything that comes with it. that choice is the hardest to make. keep saying it annette.
# posted by 
: 8:33 p.m.
: 8:33 p.m. 
I guess I did not see in this life experience what you have seen. There was an accident . This happens. It is horrible.
Having said this though, I do not see where 'chosing life' comes into it.
We should embrace the experiences of life, the child, the kind look, and yes, even death, as it is a part of life and helps us to appreciate the rest.
Do YOU think you and the other people/women would have been as enjoying of the child IF you had not seen such a demonstration of our fragile nature and our limited time on this earth?
Having said this though, I do not see where 'chosing life' comes into it.
We should embrace the experiences of life, the child, the kind look, and yes, even death, as it is a part of life and helps us to appreciate the rest.
Do YOU think you and the other people/women would have been as enjoying of the child IF you had not seen such a demonstration of our fragile nature and our limited time on this earth?
# posted by : 9:20 a.m.
: 9:20 a.m.
I can only answer the previous comment from my own persective. Yes, I would have appreciated the child, probably as much. But I was thankful for her as a way of letting go of the grieving for the family of the biker. And in a way of the grieving for those in my own past who have died in similar ways.
But the post goes beyond that, to those who have died inside, perhaps recently, perhaps years ago. Perhaps because someone they cared for is gone, or perhaps because something has been taken away from them. Some are resilient enough to breeze through these experiences unscathed (or perhaps to deny the results of them), but most of us pause for an accounting of what we have lost or what is lost. And we die inside. It's time to live.
Post a Comment
But the post goes beyond that, to those who have died inside, perhaps recently, perhaps years ago. Perhaps because someone they cared for is gone, or perhaps because something has been taken away from them. Some are resilient enough to breeze through these experiences unscathed (or perhaps to deny the results of them), but most of us pause for an accounting of what we have lost or what is lost. And we die inside. It's time to live.
<< Home