Butterfly Kisses

March 4, 2014   

A few days ago, I left a workout and texted a friend of mine shortly after: sometimes I wonder when I finish working out if I really gave everything I had today or if I left anything on the table.  Today, I’m not wondering, I could barely lift my arms to wash my hair.

 In addition to running, I usually throw on my sneakers for work.  I work at a nursing home providing OT (occupational therapy) to patients.  As I sat working with an elderly woman, she leaned towards me and said, “I need to tell you something I can’t tell anyone else. You’re the only one I can tell.  I am so afraid of dying.”  
 

“Today, you’re not dying.  Today you’re here and you’re safe and taken care of,” I replied, trying to assure her after a brief pause while I gathered my thoughts.

“But what is going to happen to me when I do die? I am so afraid of what is going to happen.”

I took a few minutes to just let her repeat the question while I absorbed what she was asking.

 

“Please tell me the truth.  What is going to happen to me?” She pleaded with me to answer as I tried to calm her down and redirect her attention to the treatment activity and  tried to generate a professional and appropriate answer.

She continued to persist.  “Please, tell me.”

“The truth is,” I began, “I don’t really know for sure what happens when we die. I haven’t been to that side yet but I like to think how cool everything will look from up there and I’ll only be able to see what really matters.” I was trying to lighten the intensity but she was seeking answers I simply didn’t have.

“But aren’t you afraid of dying?”

 I haven’t been afraid of dying since Aidan died and on his fifth birthday a butterfly landed on my cheekbone, what I can only describe as a kiss from Heaven, butterfly kisses.  

“What I believe may not be what you believe I began, but no, I am not afraid of dying.  Besides, I cannot stop it from happening, I like to think it’s simply part of life. There are a lot of things that scare me and what I usually find is that once I let go of being afraid, the things that scared me most really aren’t so bad after all.  I was really afraid about going to my friend’s gym, I thought I wasn’t strong enough to keep up and that people would laugh at me or I would hurt myself. The truth is I still get nervous before I go each time, but I’m learning and getting stronger and everyone is so kind and supportive. As it turns out I had nothing to be afraid of, all of my fears were simply things I imagined. Besides it’s pretty hard to be afraid of dying without being afraid of living, so I just choose to not worry or be afraid.” 

I recalled a time I was terrified of not being married and leaving a bad relationship, leaving my home and most of my possessions with no job, no benefits, no degree. I thought I would suffer tremendously and end up raising my children in a shelter.  It hasn’t been an easy road, but we are doing okay. Again, not as bad as I feared.  

I tried to explain, that sometimes our fears are much, much bigger than reality and if we can walk right up to them and stare them in the face we find peace and strength looking back at us, not that big scary monster under our bed. 

"But what is going to happen when I die?" She persisted

    

“If I were to tell you I believe we don’t really die and you were to tell me you believe when we die we are gone, what would the difference really be in the end?  If we move on, what a wonderful adventure awaits us and if we don’t then we won’t ever know what we may have missed.  So I guess all we can do is put it all on the table each day and hope for the best!”

I got to thinking back about that work out and how I question whether or not I give my all.  Why don’t I do that with my life each day?  Did I leave anything on the table?  Do the people I love and cherish most know I love them and am grateful for them?  Do the people in my life who are hurting know I care and pray for their peace?  Did I give my best,  everything I had?

And then at the oddest times, if you listen, you know, there is absolutely something more.  Today, teaching my 3^rd grade CCD class I sat quietly watching them work diligently on their projects, wondering if I would return to teach next year as I’d really grown to like this group a lot, when all of a sudden, as if smacked dead in the chest, I couldn’t breathe.  Aidan would be their age, in this class if he were still here and I never once realized it in all this time. When he died, I imagined all the moments I lost with him, sending him to kindergarten, watching him play tee ball, watching him grow up, getting to know all his friends.  I have felt ripped off for so long. A few months ago, a  series of events trickled down and an email arrived in late August urgently seeking a 3^rd grade teacher, I had no 3^rd graders myself but felt like I needed to volunteer to do something.  And then today, the gift given back to me, teaching the children who will never know Aidan or that he would’ve been their friend and their classmate, friends I still got to know.  I do have a 3^rd grader and all this time, I thought I was the one giving, but the gift was mine.

Before my children begin their days I say to them, “Do your best, be your best!”  I consciously don’t say THE best because it’s an unfair request, but THEIR best is possible each day, just as I must strive to be my best each day in every way.

Don’t be afraid. Look around. Listen. Pay attention.Believe. Spread your wings and fly. Feel the butterfly kisses!

There is something really wonderful in this life and beyond this life, embrace it! And embrace today, don’t leave anything on the table for later, put it all out there today! Because when I go, I really hope I still have trouble lifting my arms to wash my hair so every fiber of my being knows I gave my best to this life and I won’t have to wonder because I was not afraid to live!