I’m sure most of us, above the age of 13, have been advised “don’t take life for granted” or “life is short, don’t take the people you love for granted.” Well if anybody understands the brevity of life, it is I (and those connected to me). However, in order to live, I am finding out that the only way to carry on is to, in fact, take those we love for granted. We have to. We have to consider that we will speak again, see each other again, and fulfill our future plans together. It is imperative for our mental health that we consider the next day will come!
Now mind you, as each next day comes (at rapid speed) I am still trying to grapple with the yesterday gone by. And while in my grappling state, momentary living–living in the moment rather, gets to be a tough concept to abide by. Especially as my life keeps traveling at a rate too fast for me to handle. Check this out…
- Brian and I spend the day with our son, Cole. May 16, 2013
- A telephone call from a sheriff and Cole’s best friend tells us our son is gone. May 17, 2013
- We bury our son at Miramar National Cemetery, San Diego. Dates at this point are escaping my memory
- We leave for a pre-planned (business/pleasure) trip to Europe.
- We return from Europe and turn around and fly to Japan (business/with pleasure attached). July 1-7
- Home from Japan with severe jet-lag, the following Monday (July 15), I begin a new job an hour from my home.
- Here I sit, on my couch, the Saturday after navigating my first week of work.
I have mounds of mail to attend to. I am late paying my visa bill. My toilet is sporting a new “brown color ring” on the inside of the bowl. My kitchen counter looks like a cross between OfficeMax and the grocery store. I have the census bureau sending me threatening notifications about the fact I am “obligated by law” to fill out the form. My laundry is still under the impression that “konichiwa” is the proper greeting of the day. I have phone calls I haven’t made and follow up I haven’t done in connection to the death of my son. We have been offered a historical home to live in, in San Diego (next door to my new job), for free–minus utilities. And while the offer is extremely generous and financially appealing, the idea of it terrifies me. AND–this is a big “and”– I have family and friends who are in sorrow with us and who have been left in the dust of our whirlwind as well.
So when I actually try to get my head around my life, my yesterday, my today, and my tomorrow–I find myself needing, absolutely requiring, that my loved ones, my circumstances, my world, remain intact. I mean it is all happening too fast for me… I have to “take for granted” that they will be here tomorrow, if I am to make it through my today.
Now I must go de-clutter the kitchen counter, put the roast in the crock-pot, cut the fruit so it doesn’t rot, sort the beans and put them to boil, make breakfast for the rousing crew, and fill out the damn census form before John-Law comes a knocking at my door.
Any thoughts from the peanut gallery (a term I use to pay homage to my children–they are my peanuts–and I can still hear Cole’s voice)?
living in loss and gratitude 
Even though we don’t know each other I feel like I known you for a loooong time. Ever since Margie contacted me I felt I knew you and your family already. Is it strange to feel like that? about someone you have never seen in your life? oh well, I guess I’m weird…Please know that I have Cole’s picture right next to my son’s (my son is in the air force) : ) I will continue to pray for you and your family for God our Lord in heaven to give you the strength that you need in order to go through the paths that only he knows the when and the why he sends it to us.
Much Love,
Adriana Sclafani (Margie’s friend from Nicaragua)
Thank you, Adriana. Weird or not, I appreciate your loving thoughts and prayers.
The 150ish miles we are apart feels like a giant chasm sometimes…especially right now. Know that you are never that far in my thoughts and in my heart. I love you my dear friend.
Thank you. Your articulation of sentiments echoes my heart as well!
I miss you, My Jillian!
Sounds like you are doing quite well handling the events like a juggler. All we can do is put one foot in front of another at any moment in time and trust–the granted part– that we don’t trip over our own feet.
I am so happy for the opportunity of a beautiful casa next door to your work. Enjoy it and think of me.
Will do. Thanks mom.
TY mi amiga. I will continue to pray for you, and your lovely family! Call me whenever!
Thank you, Teresita. You are always in my heart.
Services are scheduled for 9 a.m. May 31 at Christian Mission Church, 27812 Forbes Road, Laguna Niguel. Burial will follow at 1:30 p.m. at Miramar National Cemetery, 5795 Nobel Drive, San Diego.
We’re overdue for a trip to San Diego, we’ll stop by there when we go. Call VISA, they will defer the interest if you explain the circumstances I’m sure. I found myself being late with them too so I put the bill on autopay with my bank, those interest charges are ridiculous.
Life IS short even if you get to live as long as I have. Some day we’ll know why we were so lucky. In the meantime, we trudge on making the best of what we have.
Thanks for the update,
Dan P
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Dan, it is always nice to know you are here! Thanks for the info and response…May 31st, how could I forget?!