Human Relationships

In the last 4 weeks, a similar fate befell two of my good friends. In that short span of time, both lost someone dear in their lives and yet soon thereafter, both were blessed with a new-born in their family - one a baby boy and the other a baby girl - both are first child to them.

From an observer bystander's perspective, so it is with life: the departure of someone replaced by the arrival of another. That is how life is sustained. But with it, the sadness comes with the joy of welcoming a new member of a family. It is as if, the plan of "I have created everything in pairs" are being played out in real-life. But as I know them both closely, I feel deeply for their loss but I also celebrate the joy with them.

As the cliche goes: Life is indeed short. Life is fragile and its end is always sudden. Those factors are sufficient to render us "helpless". But, what we have is the ability to always repair our relationships with ourselves and then to continuously repair and improve our relationships with others. The consciousness of the fragile state of our existence ensure this occurs. Admittedly or otherwise, we all suffer from human weaknesses in one form or the other, but the constant efforts we put in to always enhance our human relationships to a better level, surely is part of our salvation - the other being our relationship that we establish with God.

Despite our various shortcomings, we need to always assess critically the progress which we have made on a daily basis. Because at the end of it, in our transient nature, we are not able to devour and keep all the best memories to bring them to a better place - we came to this world naked and we leave it in that same state. It is really more that we have made a good journey, made profound and beautiful memories with ourselves and with others.

Now, that is indeed a cause for celebrating His Mercy.

In Memoriam: 27

I envy not in any moods
The captive void of noble rage,
The linnet born within the cage,
That never knew the summer woods:

I envy not the beast that takes
His license in the field of time,
Unfetter'd by the sense of crime,
To whom a conscience never wakes;

Nor, what may count itself as blest,
The heart that never plighted troth
But stagnates in the weeds of sloth;
Nor any want-begotten rest.

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

... Alfred Lord Tennyson