Reflections

The moon cast its light on the ocean late into the evening – just as it does nearly every night. In the dark and cloudy skies over the water, the glimmer of the moon was promising; peeking through a wispy spotlight directly above me. The company of the resilient water, the soft sand, the harsh and repetitive sounds and the silence of my companion offered exceptional opportunities to ruminate, manifest and reflect upon the effects of living this everyday existence.

What is it that reverberates off of me? Am I, like the moon, echoing the beauty of the One who made me? Does the cleanliness of my soul bare a reflection of greater understanding, the way the light of the moon shines upon the powerful waves in that ocean – revealing, concealing, revealing, concealing, as the order and disorder of the universe compels a change unlike the change before – just as the waves uniquely kiss the shore time after time?

“Be careful with your heart and what you love, make sure that it was sent from above.” (John Mellencamp, Peaceful World)

I miss my brother. Sometimes I sit quietly and feel the tender ache of having lost him cast off of me – “staring off alone into the night with eyes of one who aches for just being born.” (Bruce) That is a feeling you can only understand if you’ve felt it before and it is a level of grief that makes it hard to wake up and get moving again.

Last night as the moon cast its light on the water, I was able feel that tender ache of losing, and I was able to feel the tender ache of loving ferociously too. I was afforded the opportunity to recall several moments throughout my lifetime where I thought my heart would burst with love – so filled with peace and comfort that it swelled like a balloon, threatening that terrible break yet incredible in its immaculate innocence of authenticity. There is nothing like that feeling – a risk of losing all the love against the backdrop of feeling it. In that sliver of where they meet, hope sits and faith stews and love smiles in a boastful glee. And the risk of losing it all is a worthy wager for those silent seconds, precious moments of feeling it.

My heart swelled with love for him thousands of times throughout his lifetime, and I am one of the most fortunate people in the world for having had the opportunity to love so viciously, so strongly, and so spotlessly. And now, as I write, seeing the reflection of all these thoughts on the water that sits before me, I feel it again – over and over as the water glistens in the warm sunlight of the day. I feel it for my parents, my remaining siblings and Jeff’s best friends – the way their eyes once reflected the love – the unmatched, unpolluted, innocent – shimmer of a love so deep, so incredibly loyal and fierce, and my heart swells and breaks, swells and breaks, swells and breaks because the whole order of our lives has been hurled into a pool of mayhem and disorder – threatened by a fear of maybe, perhaps having to face the loss again, and again throughout our lifetime.

My prayer today is that I see it in their eyes again, void of that fear. My prayer is that the pain of losing a person so important makes them want to love harder, hold on tighter and give love, give love, give love – meeting the shore in powerful waves of it, over and over. My prayer today is that the sorrow of losing compels us to begin hoarding the precious moments of love that are sent from above, and reflecting it like a spotlight on deep, dark waters.