Day 11 of falling in love with life again
Today was a heavy day. I got a call early this morning, saying that my cousin had passed. It was less than 6 months ago that we lost my aunt.
In the last 6 years, I’ve lost so many people from my childhood that it really drives home how fleeting life is. When we say “it takes a lifetime,” do we fully appreciate that we’re not sure how long our lifetime is?
It makes all the other disagreements, arguments and pride in life, seem insignificant. A lifetime may last forever, but we never truly know how long our “forever” will be.
Neither my sister or I mentioned it today. It was an unspoken yearning for sibling comfort when she showed up to visit, with all of my nephews, in tow. We didn’t do anything crazy today. Played with the kids in the back yard, went to the park, made lunch, made Homemade smoothies (in the video) and watched Mulan (as 90’s babies this was a rite of passage for my nephews 🤣)
But it was as if throughout the whole day, we just felt better by being closer to each other. I know I did. There are 6 of us siblings and two more showed up to say hello. I might have hugged them both a little tighter and added extra intentions for my other two brothers, onto my rosary.
The sibling bond isn’t perfect. Some days there’s lots of petty disagreements, political debates-and religious debates. But other days (most days) it feels better when we’re together. Whether it’s spoken or unspoken, it just feels right. My sister (and all of my siblings) will probably never see this, but today especially, they feel like home. They feel like comfort and they feel like a bond that won’t ever be broken. I know without a doubt that every one of us would (and has) dropped everything when we need each other. That just brings me a comfort I can’t quite describe.
For some reason the story about Jesus and Lazarus came to mind, as something relatable.
John 11
New International Version
The Death of Lazarus
11 Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. 2 (This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair.) 3 So the sisters sent word to Jesus, “Lord, the one you love is sick.”
4 When he heard this, Jesus said, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” 5 Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. 6 So when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days, 7 and then he said to his disciples, “Let us go back to Judea.”
8 “But Rabbi,” they said, “a short while ago the Jews there tried to stone you, and yet you are going back?”
9 Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Anyone who walks in the daytime will not stumble, for they see by this world’s light. 10 It is when a person walks at night that they stumble, for they have no light.”
11 After he had said this, he went on to tell them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up.”
12 His disciples replied, “Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better.” 13 Jesus had been speaking of his death, but his disciples thought he meant natural sleep.
14 So then he told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead, 15 and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.”
16 Then Thomas (also known as Didymus[a]) said to the rest of the disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”
Jesus Comforts the Sisters of Lazarus
17 On his arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. 18 Now Bethany was less than two miles[b] from Jerusalem, 19 and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother. 20 When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home.
21 “Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22 But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.”
23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.”
24 Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.”
25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; 26 and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?”
27 “Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.”
28 After she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary aside. “The Teacher is here,” she said, “and is asking for you.” 29 When Mary heard this, she got up quickly and went to him. 30 Now Jesus had not yet entered the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. 31 When the Jews who had been with Mary in the house, comforting her, noticed how quickly she got up and went out, they followed her, supposing she was going to the tomb to mourn there.
32 When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
33 When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. 34 “Where have you laid him?” he asked.
“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.
35 Jesus wept.
36 Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”
37 But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”
Jesus Raises Lazarus From the Dead
38 Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. 39 “Take away the stone,” he said.
“But, Lord,” said Martha, the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.”
40 Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”
41 So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.”
43 When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 44 The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face.
Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”
My favorite verse in this? “Jesus wept.” Simple, emotional and realistic. “Jesus wept.” Jesus, who knew He was going to raise His friend from the dead, wept. Sometimes I think that it was to show us, that it’s okay to grieve, it’s ok to cry and it’s ok to be sad. The part I often forget is that He was BOTH human and Divine. An in His humanity, He mourned.
So for right now, I’m going to mourn. I’m going to remember all the memories and the moments and be sad for myself. Because I know that my cousin is on his way to a happier place. A place I, myself, hope to visit one day, with all my siblings in tow 💗
Whoever you’re missing or what ever you’re mourning. I’m here with you. If you have any special intentions, please let me know and I’ll add them to my Rosary. 💙 “For wherever two or three are gathered in my name….”
It’s ok to mourn. It’s ok to cry. It’s ok to be sad for a time. If The King of Kings says it’s ok, who are we to argue?
Goodnight, sleep tight,
Love your Big Sister 💛
#embracevulnerability #unfiltered #lossofalovedone #Lemon8Diary #Godisgood
Watching Mulan that day with my nephews wasn't just about entertainment; it was a profound moment. The story itself, with its themes of duty, sacrifice, and family honor, resonated deeply. I found myself thinking about the parents' reactions in the movie – their initial joy in Mulan, then their sorrow for her perceived failure, and ultimately, their overwhelming pride. It's a powerful reminder that life is a tapestry of both joy and sorrow, often intertwined. In our own lives, especially when dealing with loss, these simple family moments, like sharing a beloved childhood film, can bring unexpected comfort. It's in these shared experiences that we find strength, a quiet understanding that even amidst tears, there's always a possibility for a smile, a laugh, and a renewed appreciation for those around us. It’s about experiencing those layers of emotion, understanding that they can coexist. Speaking of family, those casual gatherings, the ones where everyone just 'shows up,' are truly invaluable. There's a unique magic in simply being together, sharing a meal, or just existing in the same space. I've often thought about how some of the simplest 'family gathering quotes' perfectly capture this feeling. Things like 'Family is where life begins and love never ends' or 'The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life.' These aren't just pretty words; they're the lived experience of what happened that day with my siblings and nephews. It’s a silent affirmation of enduring love and support that transcends any disagreements or distance. During times of profound sorrow, these moments aren't luxuries; they're necessities, providing a foundation to stand on. My journey has definitely shown me how moments of intense hardship can, paradoxically, lead to a deeper, more 'luxurious' appreciation for life – not in a material sense, but in the richness of human connection and spiritual grounding. It's a transformation from merely existing to truly 'falling in love with life again,' understanding its preciousness. When you face loss, everything else takes on a new gravity. The petty arguments vanish, and what truly matters shines through. This isn't to say grief is easy, but it forces a re-evaluation, a shift in perspective that emphasizes gratitude for each breath, each shared laugh, and the unwavering presence of loved ones. It's a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, finding light even when surrounded by shadows, and discovering profound beauty in the everyday. This transformation isn’t about living a 'luxurious life' in the material sense, but about cultivating an inner richness that no amount of wealth can buy. It's about recognizing that every day, even 'Day 11,' is an opportunity to fall in love with life again, embracing its fullness.
