on waiting for the "right" time
a mini essay
“Up till then he had been looking at the Lion's great front feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion's eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself. "My son, my son," said Aslan. "I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another.”
― C.S. Lewis
a family member died recently.
And I wish I was better about accepting it.
But the truth is it’s painful. Years ago I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t wait to live my life, especially with people I love. I vowed internally that I never would play a game of “shoulda, coulda woulda” when it came to family and chosen family. I learned, painfully, that we only get a certain amount of days under the sun (insert your own religious beliefs here) to live the life that we desire. This death has shaken me because I didn’t live up to my inner vow. I didn’t maximize the time that I should’ve and there is a hole. I have a million reasons why it isn’t my fault or why I should be hopeful, but none of those things matter. As memories float through my mind of our last moments together, I find myself pained by what could’ve been if my life wasn’t so busy.
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
― Maya Angelou