The mourning after...

Have you ever noticed how the airport is a metaphor for life and death?

The Arrivals Lounge - this is a joyful place to be. People wait in excited huddles, clutching flowers, balloons and "welcome" signs. Someone they have been waiting for is about to arrive, and they can barely tolerate the anticipation of this happy event. There are tears of joy, hugs and kisses, laughter and relief. A celebration of their safe arrival. They will return home and find a place in their life for the traveler, a space that wasn't there before.

The Departure Lounge - the vibe here is very different. Again friends and family gather, huddled in groups to farewell their traveler. There are tears and lingering embraces, sadness for the anticipated emptiness their departure will create. They will return to their everyday life and grieve within the space their departed loved one has vacated.

And what of the person departing? Much like the airport departure there are strictly enforced baggage restrictions. After a life of accumulating belongings, friends and experiences, like a fleeing refugee heading to a better place, we can take nothing with us.  The depth of our faith determines the length of our final journey, and our spirit's ultimate destination. 

In this regard, much like the departing traveler, death can be seen as the start of a new journey. While the farewellers grieve for their loved one's departure, the traveler departing carries with them an air of excitement for the journey ahead.

The road to this point however can be painful and difficult. When our aging and failing body clings to our joyful spirit - pinning it down with pain and resentment, torturing us with memories of what was, presenting wistful yearning for what could still be. One more ride on the roller coaster. One more shot at the championship. One more chance for the heart to gleefully shout "weeeeeee!" The unfairness of this predicament is agonizing.

But as with the airport, the circle of life requires people to depart, and new ones to arrive; as surely as the tide will withdraw, and return again to wash the shore.

Saying goodbye is one of the hardest things we do. It is sad, and painful and casts a gray cloud across our sunshine. In these instances I try to think about the joy of the traveler, and the freedom of their journey. About reuniting in another place, another time.

And sometimes I walk past the arrivals hall, just to vicariously share in their joy; to remember how it feels when someone arrives, rather than leaves.


This post, for our dear friends and neighbors who this week have had to say goodbye to their beloved father and grandfather. His faith will fuel his journey. May your hearts be brave and find peace. Our love and prayers are with you.