Transition of Life
Grandpa and Grandma with their 3 great-grandchildren: Mikayla, Luke and Chase
Today has been an odd day for me. Despite the fact it has been quite mundane, it has been emotionally draining. My grandfather was just moved to hospice and the doctors think we are talking days instead of weeks or months. Grandpa was diagnosed with leukemia 17 years ago and has gone through many other life threatening illnesses, yet has always been a fighter. Even though we have been called up to make our “last visits” several times, this time really seems different. At the same time, my father is in town and has been immensely enjoying his time with Mikayla (he was planning on going to backpacking, but given the recent news has decided to divert to Chicago).
Dad and I had a pretty lazy day today. We cooked some soup for a friend who just had a baby and we watched a few documentaries. We actually spent most of the day just sitting around talking about memories and entertaining the most alert and cheerful 4 month old in the world.
It is this juxtaposition of new life and possible death that has me a bit melancholy and pensive. I am spending time with my dad as he thinks about the possible loss of his. He is spending time being energized by the life of his grand-daughter while I am contemplating the loss of my own grand-father. We talked expectantly about what Mikayla’s life will hold for her as we reflect on the meaning and significance of grandpa’s life. Every song on the radio seems to have the power to call up painful realities, or hopeful possibilities.
I could wax on about the frailty of life and the interconnectedness of all people. I could go into detail about my love for my daughter and my love for my grandfather and how each stage of life refines and expands that love. I could focus on one and ignore the other. But, instead, I am content to reflect on the words of Solomon:
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather themm
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.
~Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
This passage is often used when we are looking for reassurance in a single circumstance: why is there death, why is there pain, why is there sorrow. We want to know that even the worst circumstances have a purpose. For me, that is not the most significant or reassuring truth in this passage. Instead of letting us know that there is room for even the painful things in the grand scheme of life, this passage lets us know that all things happen as part of a larger system that is always on-going. There is always death, but there is also always life. There is always pain, but there is also always hope. There is always sorrow, but there is also always celebration.
For me, today has been the realization of that very truth.