As we wade through this season of feasting–a “season,” of course, because the twelve days of Christmas are not yet over–my family has been mourning the loss of a quirky and beautiful character in this story we call our lives. Loss is always difficult, but it seems particularly heart-wrenching right now, in this season of hope. But last night we gathered and shared both our recollections and our sadnesses, and we learned about the ways our lives have been touched.
Sometimes, it seems to me, we are only able to realize the way we’ve been touched when faced with incredible loss.
I was going to post a link to the Writer’s Almanac poem yesterday, “A Short Testament” by Anne Porter, but just couldn’t manage to do so, considering how our day played out.
It’s a thoughtful poem though, and very un-NPR like, for many reasons, but the last lines in particular resonated with me. So in lieu of brilliant theorizing about community, which just isn’t happening these days, I’m sharing them with you. These lines are my prayer for today.
. . . I beg you to remember them
When winter is over
And all your unimaginable promises
Burst into song on death’s bare branches.
You can read the full poem here.