Caroline Flohr's Blog: Caroline Flohr, author's personal blog, page 6

Ghost Ranch, New Mexico

Recently, during a trip to New Mexico, my husband, Andy, and I visited Ghost Ranch, where the artist Georgia O’Keefe lived and painted before spending the rest of her life just down the road in Abiquiu.

[image error]Atop a windy mesa, with magnificent views of the high desert country, rests a labyrinth, walked by many pilgrims in their quest for sacred truths. Andy began his walk first. As I began my journey to the center, I stumbled and teetered for a moment before catching my balance. Beginning again, I centered, and asked for the meaning of the labyrinth to be revealed. My footsteps became smooth and directed, my breathing deep and calm. With each spiral, I reached a deeper knowing, an understanding that I could travel the world and find Sarah–and all of my loved ones–at every destination. My grandparents, Andy’s parents, friends who have passed, even strangers I knew only from afar–their gifts filled my spirit as I made my way. At the center, I felt God’s presence. The truth became a shining point of light: I would never walk alone.

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FlowerBlack

Tragedies are inevitable in a lifetime. They hit us from different directions, most often unexpectedly. Loss, divorce, sickness, financial ruin…

I’d imagine that most people have felt the urge to run away when things fall apart. But somehow we all find that inner strength to continue, to forge ahead, to find a way through, weaving that adversity into our life.

In August 2004, death came like a thief in the middle of the night stealing our 16-year-old daughter, Sarah. I can’t deny that Sarah’s death has been more difficult than I could ever imagine. On some days, if I’d known what lay ahead, I may have run in the opposite direction. But I had four children at the breakfast table waiting to be fed.

Although time has softened the grief, sometimes I unexpectedly return to the depths of [image error]that pain. And it’s a deep pain. The tears come for no reason at all as I drive down an island road. When a particular song plays on the radio, my mind flashes back to another time I’d rather forget…or the sight of kids crossing the high school campus. The pain can feel as raw as it did the morning of August 23, 2004. There is no escape.

But I have learned to weave Sarah’s death into my everyday life. I allow myself to feel that deep pain so that the sight of the first cherry blossoms in spring can bring a smile; the smell of coconut suntan oil can return me to a shared vacation; a good laugh can also be shared with Sarah. As you know, some days it is easier than other days to face our losses.

Left Behind Is Love

Death sometimes arrives slowly with pain and suffering, sometimes it is malicious and cruel. I think most of us live with a fear of death, anxious, self-centered. Will I miss out on something? Just like you, I try to notice and respond to the present, pay attention to my intuition and the universe reaching out.

What I do know now for sure is that death is not an end but a beginning. When death comes, left behind is love. And in that love, graces are granted to those we leave here on earth, no matter what we believe. These graces are like gifts.

Sarah left our family many gifts. I am sure she left her friends many, as well. For me, Sarah’s death brought clarity in the moment and the courage to live with authenticity. For her twin sister, Sarah left her the gift of believing in herself, dreaming bigger than herself. For her brother, Sarah’s shown him the magic of living each day, comfortable in his own shoes, knowing he is strong and sensitive to the world. Certainly for our family, nobody can deny that Sarah’s death has strengthened us in ways we never dreamed possible.

When we allow ourselves to feel the deep pain…again…and again…that love left behind can seep into our lives, carrying us forward with gratifications we’ve never known. That love inspires us to look at life, and live life, a little differently.

 

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