The Burden of Potential
Grace was a precocious child. Her logic and thought processes were in many
ways more mature than people 25 years her senior. Her parents would be the
first to tell you, proudly and with an overwhelming love for this child that
she was special. She looked at the world through innocent eyes. Eyes that did not overcomplicate a
situation. This gave her the ability to
approach difficulties with simple wisdom.
She was intelligent. She was beautiful. She was wise beyond her years
and she had an incredible potential. Potential
which would haunt her as she matured.
Potential that as she aged, would cause her to be blind to simplicity,
and would lead her to dismiss her own a value and gifts, as often happens in
the process of growing up.
When she was 7 she learned first-hand about the circle of
life.
The first to go was her best friend, Dawn. A few weeks before Christmas, she was taken
by a dark, icy Nebraska road. The car spun out and crashed, leaving the
beautiful little blonde haired blue eyed child, trapped. Grace learned later that Dawns frantic mother
went from home to home – hysterically pounding on doors and pleading for help
as her little girl lay alone, bleeding in the cold dark car. By the time help arrived, it was too
late. Dawn was gone. When Grace’s parents learned of this the
next morning, they were devastated and left unsure of how to proceed with
preparing their eldest child for this untimely news. How could they help their child to understand
this tragic loss, when they did not understand it themselves? How could they help their child through the
grief that she would certainly endure when they had no idea how to proceed
through their own?
When she awoke the next morning, Grace began to get ready
for school as she did every day. Her parents knew that the time was running
short for them to determine the proper course of action. In just a few moments,
she would be done eating. Her teeth would be brushed. She would put her coat on
and would be ready to walk to school with Dawn as she did every morning. There was no more time. They had to act now. They had to devastate
their child, possibly changing her forever.
They sat down with her, at the table and with tears in their
eyes, explained to her that there had been a terrible accident and that in this
accident, Dawn had died. Perhaps they
expected a lot of questions. Perhaps
they expected tears and anger and confusion. Certainly they expected fear. They did not expect that this little child of
theirs would be able see beyond the sadness and the human rationalizations
about death and look up at them almost happily.
They didn’t expect that it would be so simple for her and they were
humbled when she told them that Dawn was not dead, but that she was just going
to live in Heaven with God and all of the angels. They were humbled, by her simple faith. It was so easy and clear to her. It was not just silly innocence. Somehow when Grace spoke these words, it came
from a place that had reached full maturity in her short life. It was a place in her soul that was fully
developed. She had this wise old soul in
her fresh young physical being and they recognized in her a tremendous
potential.
A few months later, the second lesson came. This time it was her Grandmother. Grace’s grandmother was one of the most
important people in her little world. She had a special relationship with
Grandma. When she was with her Grandma she felt such love. Grandma’s house was a place of safety and
comfort. It was where tradition was born. One of her favorite traditions was Sunday
dinner at Grandmas house. Every Sunday,
Grace, her parents, and her little sister would meet at Grandmas house along
with her 3 uncles, their wives and all of her cousins and they would have a
fantastic Italian meal. On special
occasions Grandma would let her grandchildren have red wine in the beautiful
cut crystal glasses. Grace loved those
glasses, and she felt so grown up sipping wine out of them. She did not like the flavor of the wine as
the tannins overwhelmed her young tastebuds, but she knew that somehow the wine
represented God, and that her Grandma liked it – so she sipped it anyway.
The last few months, Sunday dinners had been different. Her Grandma had been sick. She knew that. Now, Grace’s Great-Grandmother had come from
New York to help care for her Grandmother.
Great Grandmother looked at Grace with a tender love. Grace was her namesake and her long brown
hair, big brown eyes, and olive skin-tone reminded her of her own babies and of
her homeland. Grace loved being around
her and she loved the smells from the kitchen when she was around. As time went on there was a vulnerability and
a sadness in her eyes though, and Grace somehow knew what it meant. When Grandma could no longer get out of her
bed to come to the table for Sunday dinners, Grace would go sit on her bed with
her and would tell her storied and hold her hand. Grace talked to God silently on those
days. She could see the pain in her eyes
and she knew that soon, Grandma would go live in Heaven with God and the Angels
and Dawn. She was right.
When it happened, Grace and her sister and parents went to
New York with her uncles, and their wives and all of the cousins for the
funeral. When they arrived Grace was
amazed at all of the family that she met.
There were so many Aunts and Uncles and Cousins there. It was like all the Sunday dinners that had
been the tradition throughout her life.
Everyone was so sad because they missed her Grandmother, but Grace felt
her there. She knew that she was in
Heaven, but somehow she felt her there with them. She didn’t wonder how. She didn’t question
whether it was real. She knew it
was. She had such faith that there was
no room for doubt or inquiry. She simply
knew.
By the time the third lesson came, Grace had realized that
death changes the living. She had
witnessed this change in those around her.
Her father had a very difficult time dealing with the death of his
beloved mother. Grace saw her playful,
silly Daddy withdraw, and become angry and sad.
When her family moved into Grandmas house, Grace felt immediate safety
and comfort. To her she saw the reminder
of Grandma in every room and each time she entered a room, she felt as if she
was walking into the loving arms of her Grandmothers embrace. For her father however, every reminder of his
mother cut into him as a jagged piece of glass ripping his flesh open again, as
it tried in vain to heal. His meals were
prepared in his mothers’ kitchen and they tasted just a little bitter. The
sounds of his children playing on his mothers’ piano hurt his ears and his
sleep was unsettled as he slept in his mothers’ room. There was no comfort here, only the reminder
that his mother had left him. Grace knew
that a part of her father was buried in Buffalo, NY with his mother.
The third lesson however, was not Graces dad, it was her
namesake. Her great-grandmother.
Watching her child suffer as she did. Witnessing her body break under
the weight of cancer, had a similar impact on Great Grandmother. She was changed by her grief. She was burdened by the heaviness of how she
had seen her child suffer. Truth be
told, her heart broke when she buried her daughter, and she never
recovered. 8 months after being
devastated by this loss, Great Grandmother went to Heaven to live with God and
the angels, and Dawn and Grandma. To
Grace it was simple. She would not have
to be sad anymore – she got to go have Sunday dinners with Grandma. She would drink red wine out of the prettiest
glasses in heaven and she would smile again.
Grace knew though, that others
would be changed by the death of her great grandmother, just as her Daddy, and
Uncles and Great grandmother had been changed when her grandma had died. Just as Dawns Mom had been changed when Dawn
died. It was what death seemed to do to
grow-ups. It wasn’t simple for
them. They complicated things. What was a simple transition of being from
one place to another to her, was so busy and polluted to them. To the adults in the room, the passing of
these loved ones, was not about those who had passed. To the adults in the room, the death centered
around those left standing in the room.
Ingrown up loss and grief, the world revolves around the living. The focus is about how hard it will be for
the living to go on, suffering and grieving. To the adults, those who were
gone, simply ceased to be. This is often
true in spite of deep seeded religious beliefs.
Adults lose the magic of imagination and creativity, because they lose
the ability to see anything imagined, as real or legitimate. But to the child in the room, the passing of
the love one is centered on the love one lost.
Grace did not see the situation as if she had lost her loved ones. To Grace, they had been transformed to their
favorite storybook land and there they would live on.
It is funny how the wisdom of a
child can have such profound impact on adults when it is shared. Their innocence provides such clear
vision. But life muddles the innocence
of children. It changes them, just as death does. Graces parents had been changed by both life
and death. Their vision was cloudy. They
watched their child process the tragedies that had impacted her world, yet did
not seem to be impacting her as they expected, and they knew she had tremendous
potential. In fact they were counting on
it. Her potential gave hope that all was
not lost for them.
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