Grow the gold

Recently I attended a funeral. Death is that one thing we cannot avoid.

It was a beautiful Mass with thoughtful readings, thoughts, reflections and music. No matter how lovely it was or how celebratory (in the sense of celebrating the person and her life), it signaled the end of her life on earth.

Sometimes, when there are times of sickness, we suggest that death is a kind release. Even when our rational brains attest to this, for some reason our eyes still well with tears and the ache in our heart is tangible. The heart needs to grieve.

As I farewelled someone else’s mother, my own heart stirred in sadness at the absence of my own mum. We are fast approaching the twelfth anniversary of her passing. For some reason the quote ‘nothing gold can stay’ from Frost has been wandering around the cavern I occasionally call my brain since that funeral. Sometimes, it seems that what we cherish is fleeting. Then I thought about it and edited this thought. The ‘gold’ of our lives, the cherished ones and moments whose absence (whether fleeting or permanent) stirs an ache within, are treasures that need to be shared beyond our small and limited arenas. Gold is most appreciated when it is free to paint the sky that all may see. Think of the golden glow of the sun sinking into the darkened deep ocean and how many people smile at the beauty of that ember. When we lose those we love to death we may feel like we have lost our gold. We have lost the immediate contact, and that is a pain we can feel every single day – the voice that is no longer at the end of the phone, the absence of a touch, an empty chair. We do not lose, however, the things we learnt from our experience of gold. ‘Gold’ can warm your heart, help you create traditions, shape your outlook, and affirm the goodness within.

Gold remains precious. Memories of gold have power to sustain in times of darkness, to push and promote growth. What is the ‘gold’ you miss the most? For in that ache lies something truly special within you. Grow the gold.