Hope Springs Eternal

Today I am reminded of both the fragility and resiliency of life. My friend and colleague, Mark Kooi, passed away unexpectedly last night, and I received the news, along with the rest of the faculty, this morning before school. Needless to say, it was a difficult day, and Mark will be sorely missed by the many teachers, parents, and students he touched. But my plan is to grieve in silence rather than eulogize him here, because through the ebb and flow of shock and tears I am reminded that life goes on.

The sunny, 75-degree weather of Arizona in late February bodes well for spring. The grass is turning green after the January rains; the birds are singing in the plum tree, sitting on branches heavy with buds waiting for the right moment to burst forth. My little garden beckons me to turn some dark earth and choose vegetables from the local nursery. The fig tree's branches are cupped to the sky and beginning to show signs of leaves. All around me life is burgeoning, finding a way to continue.

And, isn't that really the point of our lives - to just continue? I have always believed that everyone has a purpose. We make choices about fulfilling that purpose, about learning from our past, and about setting one foot in front of the other every morning. Sometimes we get stuck in sorrow, in guilt, in fear, in frustration, and in pain, but our challenge is to continue to move forward, no matter what.

This need to keep moving, to keep going, is a basic part of human nature. After all, think of the public tragedies we have all endured - 9/11, the Oklahoma City bombing, and Columbine to name only a few. These events have taught us collectively that life goes on - the sun rises, the cat has to be fed, the kids go to school, and so on. In our hearts we may pause for a little while; we may feel like the sun won't shine again, but it does. Personal losses are the same. Yes, the grief is deeper, the heart feels empty longer, but eventually spring must come again.

Knowing this is the natural cycle of life - that spring follows winter as surely as boys trail after girls - helps us remember that we have to keep putting one foot in front of the other while we wait for peace to follow sorrow and laughter to follow tears. In doing so we continue the journey, yet remember how tenuous our hold on life is. We consider how important it is to play, to laugh, to work, to love every day realizing it could be our last. Perhaps that is the purpose of sorrow and loss - to remind us that our lives are fleeting, even though some days (usually the bad ones) seem to last forever.

Personal loss also forces us to confront our own mortality and take inventory of our own journey. It forces us to say, "There but for the grace of God, go I." But, more than that, it forces us to acknowledge that life will continue after we, too, are gone. Spring will come and flowers will bloom. Young people will marry and have babies. Old folks will pass into history. All of this will happen whether we are here to see it or not, so it is best to use our time wisely - to create something beautiful as a legacy, and to hope that when we pass it will teach someone left behind this lesson of waiting for spring, of moving forward in the face of sorrow, because in the end, that's really all we can do.