At The Moment Of Separation

The moment of separation is different for all of us. Allison was surrounded by her family and that was bittersweet for sure. Death of a body separated us, showing us just how precious and fragile this life truly is, here one minute, with hopes and dreams, plans and life to live, gone the next, leaving that shell, that body that held a spirit, the earthly tomb laying there, with a spirit released to soar. I felt then, as I do now, that it was such a privilege to give birth to this bundle of joy, and be there to usher her into heaven, to witness her last breath on earth, and her first in heaven. It was joyous, yet as painful as anything I believe I will ever, ever do in my lifetime. Joyous in the sense that her failing body was given relief, the trauma over, and the life she was born to have had begun...but in just 21 years, on the threshold of her life, it just didn't seem bearable. Most times, it is not. I wonder if it ever will be...I wonder many things.

I have given deep thought to this world and the next since loss began in my life, years and years ago. And loss doesn't stop. With each passing loved one, I learn more and think more about what life is like AFTER this. But no loss has compared with THIS loss, my child, my daughter, my light, and my life. I am truly blessed to have yet another daughter, still on this earth, and ever growing into a tremendous soul, living life, now, for two, herself, and her sister. I am blessed in so many ways. But through the multitude of blessings, comes the pain. The pain that never leaves, eases, or subsides. Sure, after five years, it is different. That's all I can say, it is different. And as I have given thought to what happens after this life, I have been closely reminded, once again, about how we breathe in this world, and in one second of time, all changes or shifts, and loss happens again, and breath on earth is exchanged for breath in heaven. I know I am particularly touched by a life of someone I had only briefly met, yet, who followed in a circle of connection that keeps growing, and a soul who happened to belong to the neighbors across the street. Their son, Steven, whose life was cut short in an instant by a drunk driver, careless and reckless, this driver changed the course of Steven's life, his family, his students, his friends, ALL of our lives. We are never the same once a tragedy like this occurs. Hundreds mourn and will be forever changed.

In honoring Steven's life at the funeral, the pastor shared many healing scriptures and messages. One in particular was of our last breath here, and our first in heaven. A thought that has crossed my mind, and burdened my heart on many occasions since witnessing that moment of separation, my daughter from me, from us, from this world. I often wondered how it would have been had I not been there, had we not been helping her release the fight and let God take over, ease the control that she thought she had. I have been thankful to have been there. But it's a memory that has been difficult to overcome and to shed, the painful part, that is. Did she fight, did she struggle, did she linger, did she have pain of all kinds, yes, she did. And as a result, so did we. We begged for God's intervention as it took all of us to soothe her, cradle her, rock her, assure her. And He came through. He was there all along but came at just the right moment in time and took it all away. At the moment of separation, the worries and pain of this world were but a memory to her. She took her first breath in heaven and all was right with the world.

That is the case for Steven, too. He was a believer. He held faith and hope. He lived his life pleasing God. How beautiful to know, because everyone who loves him can have the sweet assurance that he is in the loving arms of God. A car accident, a suicide, a cancer diagnosis, another disease or type of accident, we are all going to take that last breath here, and that first breath in heaven. As it does with Allison, it brings me peace to know that is promised to those who believe. Does it make the separation easier to bear? Sometimes. Yes. No. Maybe. It depends. Sometimes nothing can bring comfort for that moment. Sometimes, the thought of that first breath is all that can get me through the day, knowing the peace that must accompany that breath.

Those moments of separation, permanent and eternal, are forever framed in our minds, hearts, souls, subconscious. For each of us, it takes our own time, and our own journey, to come out on the other side. We can be tortured and sickened by them, and by the circumstances, but just as quickly as the toss of a coin, those moments of separation can bring comfort, hope, faith, and peace that passes any understanding. For in those moments of separation, we grow and we learn and we believe. We believe in something higher and more divine than ourselves, we trust in the hands of the Father, and we try to breathe, in and out, until we find that inner peace, one day, and until we take our own first breath in heaven.