The shop was silent, except for the sounds of my creation. The setting was the same as it had been for thirty years. Yet, people who were here are no longer. I have known this for the previous fifteen months. Today, it is sinking in for real. I am the same as I was; at the same time, I am different. Even as I close my eyes, I see the faces of those who have gone before me. Their smiles, laughter, and comforting presence remain with me.
I spoke to the daughter of a good friend who has passed. In our shared loss, I knew it was so much worse for her than for me. My laments are with me as they are with her. It is easy to think that I am the only one, even as I know “Others braved abuse and whips, and, yes, chains and dungeons.” (Hebrews 11.36) In our shared sense of loss and lament, I also find hope in the dawn of a new day.
Relationships are a gift. One never knows how long they last. I take them for granted – assuming they will always be part of my journey. With the reality of knowing that the best I have are my memories, I grow quiet and tearful. Each loss is a burden that I do not wish anyone to bear. The whisper focuses on celebrating each relationship moment, intentionally etching the emotions as deeply into my heart and soul as possible. My goal is that they endure long after I have forgotten the moment.
We are in this together. I do not always see others as part of my community. The call to share the sad news was a lesson reminder of our shared pain and love. The lives of a father and older brother positively impacted our growth as individuals in different ways and across time. Each moment is uniquely our own, even as we share it with others. Our journey is never solitary; it is defined by the relational steps we take with others along the way.
