Living with Loren

Heyyyy y’all. I miss youuuu! It has been a heavy semester between graduate school and my professional school year, and whew… I really do miss you all. Life has been nonstop, and today I found myself picking up what felt like the 1,000th Cheerio that little Miss Gwenaelle sprinkled around the house like confetti. Motherhood is wild.

And right there, in the middle of picking up Cheerios, toys, cups, and my sanity, I suddenly heard Bruce Rhyne yelling at the TV in my mind. My dad. It was random, but it was exactly what I had been feeling. This year there will be no stopping by to watch him fuss at the Thanksgiving football games, no loud commentary, no “BRUUUCE!” moments echoing through the house. And that sits heavy with me.

A few hours later, I went out to run errands. As I walked through the Sam’s Club parking lot, I caught the unmistakable scent of Newport cigarettes. My great-aunt and great-uncle both smoked Newports… and neither one is with us this year.

Oh, grief.
Grief is so disrespectful sometimes. It sneaks up on you in parking lots, in grocery aisles, in toy-covered living rooms, and in memories you didn’t ask to remember but desperately needed to feel.

This year, my Thanksgiving count has declined fast, not just in seats around the table, but in voices, laughter, phone calls, and familiar habits. Truthfully, this has been unfolding for two years… but this year I feel the weight of it differently. More clearly. More deeply.

Grief, with all its layers, is a nasty ole necessary component of life. It comes in waves, often without warning. Still, I am choosing to welcome it. To feel it fully without letting it turn me bitter or steal joy from anyone else. All things, the good and the painful, come from the Lord. I believe that. Even grief.

As a Life Science teacher, I spend my days talking about cells, ecosystems, the human body, the building blocks of life. And in true Loren fashion, I decided to look deeper. I asked Google to define life. It gave me this:

“Life: the condition that distinguishes animals and plants from inorganic matter, including the capacity for growth, reproduction, functional activity, and continual change preceding death.”

Whew.
I sat with those two words: continual change.

We are ever-changing creatures. By design, life itself is meant to change continually. That truth comforted me and blew my mind at the same time. Because if life is meant to change, then life is meant to be lived right now, as it shifts, as it surprises, as it breaks, as it heals.

So this Thanksgiving…

Enjoy the loved ones who are still here.
Do not wait to “get over” missing the ones who are not.
Live. Right now. In the continual change.

Happy Thanksgiving, y’all.
May your day be warm, gentle, and full of grace.

Until Next Time,

Keep Living!

Love, Loren