Choices/Grieving/Loss

"...every time there are losses there are choices to be made. You choose to live your losses as passages to anger, blame, hatred, depression and resentment, or you choose to let these losses be passages to something new, something wider, and deeper."


--Henri Nouwen


I've experienced many different venues of loss in my life. Each of which looks entirely different than the other. I've experienced the loss of friendships, family, dreams, etc. In recent years, I've grieved the loss of a high school classmate, a student, and now a college classmate. Although my grieving was more connected to grieving for those closest to the ones lost...it was a loss all the same. Memories are revisited in a different light. An understanding must be met. But how true is it that "every time there are losses there are choices to be made." When my student committed suicide, we chose to grieve the loss not point the blame in anger. When my high school classmate was killed overseas, we chose to acknowledge the heart and passion and the joy of his life fully lived rather than dwell in anger toward the war. With the recent loss of my college classmate and friend, I am choosing not to hang on to the questions of why in resentment and anger. We have power in these choices; however, making these choices is crucial. It is through them that we can let them be "passages to something new, something wider, and deeper." How important is it then to not only choose this for ourselves, but to open these choices to those suffering loss around us.


I was able to attend the visitation this week of my college classmate. The depiction of grieving and celebration of life was evident in the most real way I have ever experienced. Mark, my fellow English teaching major friend that was killed, lived in a dorm that prided itself in the community it upheld. Actually, that's not true. There was no pride evident in that dorm of men. Moreover, they were known for the intense depth of community and understanding. Years before, I watched as they flooded the dorm's stoop and invaded the green lawn of our college as they communed together. This week, I watched as they flooded the stoop of the funeral home and invaded the parking lot.


Some angry.


Some sad.


Some depressed.


Some distressed.


Some sullen.


Some laughing in the memories.


Some...nothing.


All embracing and accepted. They understood each other in a way a community should. I found myself, in this moment of mourning, in awe of their realness, vulnerability, and acceptance of each others way of processing. I longed to be apart of something of that depth. I cherished the depth in which they loved Mark. The way they were mourning for the loss the other was experiencing. I feel blessed to have seen such a real, true depiction of community, especially when in hand with such incredible grief.


I approached my board today and thought--Mark is not doing this today. He's not walking into his school or into his room or even enjoying the early afternoons off. And he's not. He's enjoying something so much better, and because of that realization--I must choose that when I walk into my school, into my classroom that I choose to live. And not only do I choose to live, but the way I live must be a choice of constantly striving toward something Greater. My friend just recently blogged about how we don't choose when we are born. We don't choose when we die, but we do choose how we live.