Stories that Never End
We all have a story, and we exist in stories other than our own
There is no real ending. It is just the place where you stop the story. —Frank Herbert
A few weeks ago, I gathered up the most recent pile of my journals from a shelf in my family room as I selected finished books to donate to a new local bookshop making use of well loved books. Upon seeing the stack of journals, my husband asked me if I ever went back and reread them. I told him it was not a regular practice of mine, but that day I had opened the journal that I was using when my Mom died. I found myself reading entries a few days before her death in September of 2022 where I was excitedly thinking about an upcoming visit where she, my sister and I would spend the afternoon cooking together—a practice we had just started in April as a way to heal from the grief of my younger brother’s death in February of that same year. Reading them with the knowledge that the fun day together would not take place nor ever take place, made me feel like I was reading a story where I knew more than the narrator and entered the dreadful moment long before she arrived. The ending already known.
At least, I thought I knew the ending, but I have come to learn death is not an ending but only a stop in the story of those we love. If death was an ending, then there would be no carrying of grief long after the death occurred. All would be forgotten and life would resume with a new story started and the old placed on the shelf to be packed away. Like my journals, there would be a clear beginning page and ending page. But our lives are not individual journals encompassing only our stories.
Although we are the main character in our story, others help us write our story. Some characters are only secondary or show up in a chapter or two; their influence is not powerful and can be forgotten with the turn of the page. But others carry the story line with you; they are there for the major plot lines and plot twists, the rise and fall of action, conflict resolution, and memorable events. Your story could not be told with out them nor could their story be told with out you.
But there is no ending. For your story or their story.
When death enters a story, it brings a stop to a particular story line, but not an end to the overall story. What has been written cannot be unwritten, and what continues to be written carries on the influence of the deceased character. Because the death spurs the direction of the existing story, it is not a new story that begins, but an old story that continues, carrying the remembrance of the fallen by the words and actions of those who remain in the story. We continue to write the stories of those we love long after they are gone. It is a never ending story, when love exists.
Love is not affected by death—it doesn’t end, it doesn’t diminish, it doesn’t change.
—Mary Hollingsworth
What’s been nourishing me…
It’s soup weather here in Western, PA, and we’ve been having different types of soup along with The Modern Nonna's deliciously simple no-knead dough. Dough is rising as I type this for tonight’s loaf.
Last year, I returned to reading poetry and I try to read at least one poem a day. I enjoy Poetic Outlaws wide variety of poetry.
A morning and evening practice of gratitude and reflection.
