Kindness Personified.

Oh.. my boys.

They miss him with a rawness that cannot be explained away..

I try to find diversions.. Both for myself and for my babes... But tonight... there is no diversion that can ease the reality of this. This missing.

Trust me- as far as diversions go, I've tried a whole stack of them.

Tonight- my eldest son wrapped his arms around me and whispered, "I just miss him, you know??"

I know.

It's a complex thing- this grief.

We are doing fine- and we miss him.

We are running ferociously into life- and we miss him.

We are smiling at the future as it promises us good things- and we miss him.

We are planning tomorrows and adventures- and we miss him.

I'm reminded, again, of the magnificent tension that we traverse in this new normal.

The tension that exists where the truly tragic meets the astoundingly beautiful.

I felt it tonight when I put my darling hearts to bed and we softly spoke of their daddy.

The beautiful pride and honour that they hold for a father who is not here to receive it. 

Magnificent tension. Beauty in tragedy. 

How often do I find that unbelievable beauty has moved into the neighbourhood of abject grief...

That is the reality of what we live each day.

My sons and I...

We have not been left to this tragic loss.

We aren't untethered and adrift, without hope.

We know the depths of this grief, but we aren't consumed by it.

Do we miss him?

Wholeheartedly.

Undeniably.

Are we ok?

Certainly.

Yes.

And that- well.. that is the magnificent tension that we tread upon.

That is grief.

Working itself out.

Allowing us the privilege of missing his presence, while we celebrate the man we had. 

Letting us wallow in the misery of his going, while we rejoice in the knowledge that he has gone home, free from the scourge of cancerous cells and pain.

It's a magnificent tension.

I keep finding out things I didn't realise about myself. It makes sense that I become self aware.. I am almost 36.. (upcoming birthday hint subtly dropped).

I have realised that I love to talk.

No- don't laugh.

Seriously.

You all might have realised that fact some time ago- but I'm not talking about how much I CAN talk- everyone knows that I CAN talk the hind legs off a donkey. 

No. I'm talking about this new found love of talking about kindness. And how it won for my family.

I have realised that I love to talk about how, in our darkest moments, we were pulled into a safe place by the constant and overwhelming kindness of our people, of a community who threw kindness our way.

I love to talk about how kindness gets to take the spotlight in this tragedy.

I want to tell you about how the magnificent tension...how the kindness of beauty in the midst of sorrow, has changed my life. 

I could tell you a million tales- but let me share this one with you.

I have an Aunty Heather.

And I love her.

She's the family we got to choose. 

I have been thinking about her a lot lately. 

She is standing knee deep in her own moments of magnificent tension right now, but for those days and weeks and months that he faded, she stood in ours.

She heard a silent, desperate plea for help that I made a couple of months before Sheldon died.

I was coming to terms with his going and I needed.. well, I guess I needed Aunty Heather.

Aunty Heather showed up and helped to ease the burden of the fading.

She couldn't take away the truly tragic, but she shouldered it.

She shared it and she made cupcakes, and lasagne.. She made cups of tea and patiently listened to Sheldon's 3am rambling conversations when he couldn't sleep. 

She organised my linen cupboard and she drove us to the funeral home when Sheldon was ready to organise his funeral.

She held his hand in those final minutes as he prepared to go,  she whispered that I'd be ok and that he could leave the pain and the burden of cancer and run into eternity.

Aunty Heather was the embodiment of the beauty of kindness showing up in the neighbourhood of abject grief. 

And it mattered.

It helped.

It changed those days that we had to live through.

Kindness changed those days.

Someone showing up and BEING KINDNESS PERSONIFIED changed those days.

Take stock of the people in your life.

Is there someone you know who is living in the neighbourhood of tragedy? Or disappointment? Maybe they are just plain down on their luck and could use a friend. Could you perhaps be the beauty of kindness that moves into that neighbourhood of their tragedy, their disappointment, their run of bad luck... And could you be like Aunty Heather- and just let kindness win...

Just show up and shoulder the truly tough. 

Seek out ways to make life easier for someone who is on struggle street. 

Be kindness personified.

Be. Kind.

Because listen when I tell you- it matters.

It changes things.

That magnificent tension- kindness in the midst of someones toughest day... well. That's a game changer.