Life. Is This Somebody's Idea of a Joke?

(1) My brother Richard,  and (2+3) Step-daughter Summer holding my first grandson

One of the more difficult things to come with the passage of time is that it becomes more and more common to face something people really can't stand thinking about - death. Do you remember as a kid not really believing that those bones and bloody things that you saw in your text book were really inside of YOU? I felt that way. Still do sometimes. But, I didn't get to remain a stranger to the inevitable truth and limits of having a body for very long.

Over the years I have experienced more loss than I care to think about. Both parents - are you still an "orphan" if you are a grown-up? I lost my 3-year-old sister when I was 7, my 36 (or was he 37?) -year-old brother when I was 46 (or 47). Shortly after losing my brother his widow and my two nieces were blocked from my life. It was like multiple deaths all at once. My own sister moved out of my life. But, at around the same time I met the man who was to become my new husband. Life sure has some pretty extreme ebbs and flows.

With my new husband came new children to love. His grown son and his twins - then 7 or 8 - a boy and a girl. People actually asked me was I sure I was doing the right thing marrying someone with children who were going to become t.e.e.n.a.g.e.r.s. one day soon. Completely blocking out the memories of my own son's teen years I said, "How bad could it be? They're great kids!" And I loved them, although when she was 12 and when he was around 14 I did wonder from time to time what I had been thinking. On some levels it helped soften the blow of the loss of my nieces, but I valued the twins totally and completely for the unique individuals that they were.

My husband and I have been married almost 7 years now and meeting him was one of the luckiest things to ever come my way. But, tomorrow... tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of the death of his beloved daughter Summer. She would be a senior in high school now, driving cars and driving us crazy. Instead, just over two years ago she was diagnosed with a rare sarcoma. On the evening of November 11, 2012 we were all around her as she took her last breath. Summer was a piece of work. Beautiful, funny (in a very sharp and smart kind of way), maddening, charming, sneaky, empathetic. She was not easy. She was one of the most complicated people I have ever met,  but she could be magnificent. And, now she is gone.

After my mother and brother both died unexpectedly and in an instant, and I managed to get through it, I actually thought, "I've got this death thing down pat. I've experienced the worst. I can handle this." The thing I am realizing now, with Summer, is that instead of handling it I shut down. Now, I am letting the reality of her loss flow over me. I'll tell you it sucks.

But, life is life. It can be good and bad. It can be yin and yang. Since Summer was diagnosed, in this short little span of time, my husband and I went from 0 to 4 grandchildren! My son and his wife had a boy, followed by my older stepson and his wife having twins (a boy and a girl!), and then another boy for my son's family. I found it was possible to experience the greatest joys and the greatest agony virtually simultaneously, although I often wondered if this was some cosmic somebody's idea of a joke or of a gift? I think both, but mostly the latter.

There is a saying in AA, "You must accept life on life's terms." I had absolutely no idea what that meant until my brother died. Now I get it. Life pulls no punches. It hits hard. But, oh my, if you stay open - just keep your heart from hardening - life also brings you the greatest gifts it has to offer. And, then, damnit, sometimes it yanks those gifts right back out of your hand. No punches held, remember?

So, from all of this I get something to which I used to pay lip service, but am now actively focusing on... holding life loosely. Accepting what it is and how it is at any given moment. Actually BEING in the moment. Love what is there in front of you to love today. Let go of the rest. It's taken me a while to believe this stuff, but I do. It only makes sense and it makes each day a pretty darn decent one.

And, that is my sermon for this fine Sunday as I sit and ponder my beautiful step-daughter, and cry, and laugh a bit. She is missed more than you can imagine, even if I am "only" the step-mother. And so we mourn, and then in a few hours, we are going to have dinner with my son and his family. The 2-year-old will call out "Nana! Poppis!"as I scoop him up in my arms. The 10-month-old will give his little Elvis smile as his beloved grandfather picks him up and tickles his tummy. What a day it is today.