Do you ever wish that you could travel through time to correct past mistakes or clear the future of its obstacles?
Unfortunately (even if we wanted to), we can't eliminate the messiness of our lives or rewrite history. And while we can influence the future through our choices and actions, only time can tell the real story.
Looking back, one of the things I'm most grateful for is personal growth. Unraveling those parts of myself that I'd forgotten or left behind has brought me to a much happier, fulfilled, and healthier place.
Yet, as I age, my perception of time keeps evolving because, despite the routine and mundane moments I'd pre-retirement, life seems to be flying by at this stage. The phrase "time's a-wasting" reminds me to tune out the distractions of everyday life and focus on the beauty surrounding me.
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."—Maya Angelo.
Whether holding our newborn baby/babies for the first time, witnessing a spectacular sunset or rainbow, being out in nature, or standing on a mountaintop, we remember those moments that took our breath away; we remember the indescribable awe, like time stood still briefly, as we became fully present to notice and appreciate what was before us. In that sense, I agree with Maya Angelo.
But what about those other defining moments that took our breath away by sucker-punching us in the gut, forever changing the direction of our lives in a split second?
One such time for me was in 1987 when my mother suddenly died.
Time will heal you; time will lessen the sadness," well-meaning friends kept telling me.
"One of the realities of grief and loss is that the rest of the world seems to keep on going forward while we feel like we have been stopped in our tracks." —Alan Wolfelt.
I waited for "time" to do its thing as the world moved on without me. But it was as if time had stood still.
I couldn't look to the past because it was too painful. I couldn't look into the future because my mother wouldn't be there. If anything, I wanted to go back in time. In other words, I wanted my life to return to how it was before my mother died.
When our life's sand-glass plugs off and traps us in turmoil—even though the grains of our lives will look and feel differently—the sands of time will flow again. We can't see this in the throes of grief. Nor should we. Nevertheless, as we journey out of the valley, we will experience awe, wonder, and joy and live life to the fullest again.
Thirty-six years have ticked by since my mother died. Although she hasn't moved through time with me, no length of time has erased her from my heart.
Time. It's constantly in motion and stops for no one.
Time in grief, however, allows us to (slowly) zoom in and greet each milestone in whatever way our emotions present, giving us the means to let go of the past and move into the future with a "new normal" without our loved ones.
Each breath we take is God's gift of time. Still, how we spend it can be a complicated question.
We can choose to heal those broken and estranged relationships. We can choose to forgive. (Remember, forgiveness is for ourselves. It's not for the person who hurt us, and not necessarily for reconciliation with that person.) And we can choose to make peace with our past while looking forward to the possibilities time offers us.
If you are reading this and are struggling, I pray you will find a safe and healthy space to embrace the "now" once again. (Be patient with yourself. Take your time.)
