My grandfather had dementia.  After my father died, my grandpa would come over and ask "where is Jim?" Each time someone would have to tell him that Jim had died and grandpa would relive the grief over and over again. It was horrifying to watch.  Finally, I said that we would just have to tell him dad was sleeping.  That is what it is like to mourn a child. 

I realized yesterday with some trepidation that the gut-wrenching rawness of Ali's death is never going to go away.  You cannot raise a child and then have them taken from you forever and not have your insides rip apart...each time like it is new again.

What does change and will continue to change is the length of time between these moments.  The time between re-living the grief grows longer with the passing of each month and year and this is how you rebuild your life.  In the space between.

This is true for all of us.  There is space between our hardships; for some people it is an expanse of years and for others it is merely seconds.  What matters is what we choose to fill that space with.  Pay attention, look around, find the good and breathe it in.  This is how you will go on.  This is what it means to live.

Somewhere at this very moment, someone is sitting in their living room, or a restaurant, or walking through the grocery store and inside of them a voice is screaming.  They cannot understand how the world is moving forward while their insides are being split apart and their world is crumbling around them.  Listen and you will hear it…

“look at me, see my pain”.  It hovers in the air like storm clouds in April.

People hurt and it makes us uncomfortable.  We don’t know what to say so we say nothing. 

In an effort to appease our conscience, we take on causes that we see as having tangible results.  Buy these lightbulbs and save a tree.  Now I can sleep at night.

These people; our suffering neighbors, do not care about global warming, their portfolios, the crime rate or Brittany Spears.  They care that they can feed their children, dig enough money from their couch cushions to buy gas and get to their radiation appointments on time.  They care about surviving another day and underneath the weight of survival is the barely breathing hope that somehow they will also find something to laugh about.

We scream at our politicians—fix this, throw more money at that—give us hope, give us pork.    It take the onus off of us and is so much easier than sitting down with someone who is hurting, or confused or unlovable and watching their insides spill all over the table.  That is messy.

Hillary Clinton, Barrack Obama and John McCain cannot save us.  They are trying to sell us a used car.  George Bush will not save us; neither will the Republicans, the Democrats, the Congress, or the environmentalists. 

Perhaps the world will heat up and we will be vaporized and eating our neighbors for dinner as Ted Turner predicts.  Perhaps we will be wiped out by a meteor, a nuclear attack or the bird flu.  Perhaps Christ will come back in the meantime.  Or maybe not.

Does it matter?  Really?  Yes, we can be diligent and precautious, but do we really think we can stop the spinning of time and the unraveling of naturally occurring events?  I’m not sure, Ted, what do you think and where can I buy a really large frying pan? 

What about the now?

Yes, there are issues that must be a function of our government.  Don't hold your breath.  Don't hope for too much.  Republican or democrat, they will do what they want.  It has nothing to do with the will of the people anymore--it is about affirmation and accolades, prestige, power and promotion.  

I will tell you that through all of the tumultuous changes in my life over the past few years, I never looked to the government to solve anything.  It wasn't their job and quite frankly, they only make things more complicated. No one ever promised you a rose garden and if they do--watch out for the thorns. They will hold you in captivity and many years later, while you are still waiting for them to save you, you will realize that they have discouraged you from saving yourself.  There is no greater feeling of satisfaction than the one that is derived from pulling yourself up by the bootstraps and overcoming adversity.  They want to deny you this because it makes them dispensable and limits the rhetoric that gets them re-elected. 

There are things that we--you and I--can affect—right now and they are right in front of us, but its like exercise and we grow tired thinking about it. Most of the greatest gifts that I received from people in my time of need were found in small, innocuous packages--a pumpkin secretly placed on my porch, my lawn mysteriously cut, a latte delivered to my door, or a card in the mail. There were also those gifts that saved me from losing my electricity, my house and my mind.  Roses without thorns.  A rain shower in the desert.

Life is circular; it begins and ends with hope and hope is the offspring of love.  If you are looking for hope from the government then no wonder you are disillusioned. 

I have a circle of people that I know and care about.  In addition, there are charities and causes that are close to my heart. This is my sphere.  You have your own.  Together our spheres form an incredible galaxy and it is much more potent than the words and actions of any politician or government.

I am tired of it.  Politicians, demagogues, charmers and liars.  I am tired of missing the forest for the trees.

Some people may appear to lead a charmed life but the truth is that everyone will be faced with their own private tragedy and they will be as varied as the people themselves. The only commonality in suffering is that in an instant everything we thought that we knew is altered and we gain a perspective that can only be understood by living through it. We discover the depth of our souls and the source of our strength. We re-examine our beliefs and the measure by which we judge others. Through adversity we understand the nature of human suffering and begin to recognize the look of pain in the eyes of strangers. Like fellow members of an exclusive club we share this bond… this mystical handshake… this revelation.

A voice in our head and a spark in our heart that repeats over and over… I…am… not… alone. Someone has stopped long enough to look into my eyes and see that there is this thing… this huge, ugly, frightening thing gripping my heart and sometimes I feel as though I will not be able to take another breath. Someone who knows that a simple touch, a knowing smile, a gentle word of encouragement or a well placed silence can change the course of a day and when you least expect it you are not only breathing… but living… and not only living but living well.

That is how the world will be changed.