This piece was contributed by a member of The Christi Center community…
My light went out. That’s what my kids told their therapist and it was true. It took me by surprise but I had to admit the light of my life was gone. Dead. Buried. When I look back on those early years, I don’t know how I survived. It was by the grace of God, truly by the grace of God. I lost my husband 12 years ago. It was quick, unexpected. and tragic. It was just all one recipe of agony. He died of a heart attack at 44. He was gone in 30 minutes from the time the symptoms began. I did not even realize how serious the situation was. Nobody dies, they just get sick, and then they recover. Right? No, not so. I had always been afraid of death, dying, and maybe even living.
I could not imagine that someone close to me could die. They could and did.
When I look back on those first years, I realize that I was going through a major lesson in my life. I could survive, I could go on, and even more so, it was not in my plan to go, not yet. My plan was not his plan. What I have come to realize is that we all have a plan, a set of goals, and tasks to do before we leave this world and when we accomplish them we leave. It may be early in our time of life on this Earth or it may be later. We don’t control that but a higher power does.
A higher power is a reality of our existence whether we chose to admit it or not and he is ever present. I am thankful this is so. I have also come to realize that our loved ones never leave us. They are behind a veil. We need to trust that.
So I go on. I go on living, loving my family, and teaching. When other people get stressed about things, I say, it is small, it doesn’t matter.
What matters is loving those people in your life, every day and always. Love them. The light will come back.
Love and the light are one.