Footprints in Concrete

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There are precious people that have enriched my life and are no longer with me on a daily basis. I mourn their loss. I celebrate their new life. Sometimes pain and joy go hand in hand.

We put our names and footprints into the cement to memorialize our experience; yet, another owner of the house and walkway will not appreciate our “graffiti.” While it may have been jackhammered up and replaced, there is no jackhammer in my memories.

What is it that you both mourn and celebrate?

 


8 thoughts on “Footprints in Concrete

  1. Having children is a devastating experience,; it is always heartbreaking. We are all in the process of becoming someone else with every experience. We are losing not only the children we once had, but if we dared to look, we’d see we are also losing our former selves. What is the alternative? Living for many years without personal growth? That would be a tragedy, so at the same time we look back and celebrate how far we have come, all that we have accomplished, we mourn the loss of the people we were, we knew, and the children we once had. As we experience this richness of the human experience, there is a poignancy, a tenderness, a bittersweet quality to it all. So yes, of course we celebrate and grieve as we embrace inevitable change.

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    1. Kaller, your comment is so eloquent. I agree that our children burst our heart-strings both in that we are so proud of them, and we also walk through their disappointments with them. I love your reflection that “there is a poignancy, a tenderness, a bittersweet quality to it all.” Yes, change involves personal growth and as long as we are alive, I long for growth because I believe that without it, we lie to ourselves that we are truly living. Does that make sense?

      And part of the grieving, for me, is that one foot in that photo is from a dear friend of mine who died from cancer over a year ago. I still miss her terribly, but I know that she would want me to live a rich and full life…and I wonder sometimes if she is watching and cheering me on…

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  2. Further, if we dare to look up from the “busyness” we so desperately cling to, we will realize that entire worlds and frames of reference everywhere are passing out of existence. They are passing away as surely as this snow will melt and leave nothing but a vague memory. It is tempting to get caught up in mourning, to label these transitions as bad or sad, but in reality this is just the way of things. Perhaps we can change our view and see mourning as a way of savoring an experience. What do you think?

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