I know you’ve seen it on Facebook.  You know, the question, “Anyone else feel like life is being written by a 4 ^th grader right now?”  Then they follow that up with the 4 ^th grader’s script:

“And there was this virus and everyone was scared.  And then the world ran out of toilet paper yeah, and then there was no school for like a month and then it snowed!!”

Well, I’m here to tell you, that’s simply not true.  I’m pretty sure life is currently being directed by a 3 ^rd grader named Anderson Hall Thomas, my adorable, highly creative, nine year old grandson.  I actually have three adorable grandsons—Wilson, Anderson, and Malcolm—and one adorable granddaughter, Cora.  But Anderson is the storyteller of the bunch.  He is constantly drawing villains and monsters and superheros then bringing them to life in tales that could only come from his wonderfully weird little noggin’.  I can just hear his version of life right now, narrated in his raspy little Anderson voice (complete with ALL the hand motions) . . .

“First there was this hurricanador that came and ripped up all the trees and threw them on the houses and in the roads and all over everybody’s yards and then there was a really big flood and all these people had to leave home and go everywhere in boats and then a tornado came and destroyed lots of buildings and stuff and then this evil virus showed up and started killing everybody and then another tornado came but it was just a little tornado, not like the hurricanador or the one that destroyed all the buildings and stuff and now all the schools and restaurants are closed . . .”

When you start with last October and string it all together, it gets a bit overwhelming, doesn’t it?  Ok.  Let’s get real.  It’s a lot overwhelming.  And as we continue to exist under Executive Orders and watch as the river begins to creep from its banks—again—and the weatherpeople speak of more rain and thunderstorms, it’s only natural to wonder when it will stop.  When will we have a moment . . . just a moment . . . of normal again?

Unfortunately, the answer is probably never.  At least not the normal we once knew and took for granted.  Too much has changed.  Too much has been lost for life to return to what it was just a few short months ago.  There will be a new normal, better in some ways, far worse in others, but we will adapt and grow stronger for having survived.  And you know what that sounds like?  It sounds a lot like the loss that Death comes bearing and the grief that follows.

Grief is as much a part of life right now as it is when Death calls, because there is still loss, it’s just a different kind.  Consider the list of things that are no longer things . . . the freedom to go and do as you please, the opportunity to continue your education, whether or not you have access to computers or parents who can serve as substitute teachers, the ability to buy at least the basic necessities of life, the luxury of planning for the future . . . the companionship of extended family and friends.  And what has taken their place?  Loneliness, greed, fear, depression . . . but also ingenuity, creativity, selflessness, and a true appreciation for the things that matter in this world—gathering with the people we love, the touch of another human being, celebrating the milestones of life with those who mean the most to us.

And how do we survive loss on such an all-encompassing scale?  The same way we do when Life surrenders to Death.  Talk with your friends . . . just not in person right now.  Find that playlist that lifts your spirits and brings peace to your soul.  Create that bucket list of things you want to do before the stay at home orders expire . . .  like cleaning out your closets, reading that book you’ve been meaning to, doing the yard work that never seems to get done . . . anything that keeps your mind and body occupied by something other than what is missing.  Stay busy in the service of others; many times our own problems grow smaller and our gratitude greater when we help someone else who is struggling—and yes, you can do that even under these conditions. Oh, and one other, very important thing . . . cry when you need to.

I have often said only a fool refuses to learn the lesson because he doesn’t like the teacher—and right now this evil virus is just the latest in a string of unwelcome educators.  As difficult as these days are and as fearful as they may be, there are still some valuable lessons to be learned—and some good to be found.  Look for both.  Learn from both.  Remember.Both.  It’s been too costly a process not to.

About the author:  Lisa Shackelford Thomas is a fourth generation member of a family that’s been in funeral service since 1926.  She has been employed at Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah, Tennessee for over 40 years and currently serves as the manager there.  Any opinions expressed here are hers and hers alone, and may or may not reflect the opinions of other Shackelford family members or staff.

The post Too Much . . . appeared first on Shackelford Funeral Directors | Blog.