I sat in a room filled with over 900 people. We all had a sad story. The same story. We had all lost a child. The common thread was wrapped around each of our hearts tightly and safely never to be cut. The other end of the thread curled, waved and stretched into a web of interaction that connected everyone in the room. We all understood. We all shared a piece of the web. We all shared a piece of the pain. Some parents lost their only child. Some carried the loss of more than one. Over 900 stories of pain sat in a room where we gathered to share. Together our love and pain created an energy that was at moments thick and heavy and at times light and freeing. The emotions were made bearable by the powerfully strong connectivity in the room. The stories varied in versions, time frames and circumstances, but the same sad story connected all of us. In a recent conversation, someone mentioned to me that there seems to be so many sad stories right now and that everyone you talk to has one. I believe that is true. I believe that the more birthdays we are lucky enough to enjoy and the more candles we blow out, the more sad stories we will have. The longer we live we will hear more and more sad stories from others. Is it possible that as we age the stories become sadder or is it the accumulation of stories that becomes heavier with every layered story and every year that passes? Over the years I have had my struggles. I have watched my loved ones and my friends struggle. I have said goodbye to people I love. I personally know the story of divorce, job loss, accidents and illness. I have laid battered, bruised and broken in a puddle of helpless hopelessness. I have suffered. We have all suffered. Could it be that there is a sensibility to this? I believe so. We will all be wounded. The wound may be sharp and quick, but deep. The wound may be a slow, dragging pain that leaves a scar in a wide jagged way. No amount of ointment, stitches or bandages will heal the puncture. Wounds are meant to break an opening so a lesson, a message or a meaning can reach our hearts. Wounds are the marks of living. Sad stories give us a way to share our wounds. I believe that it takes the darkest of times to open us up to learning the most. To live this life we must endure and understand the difficult times. The dark times. The sad times. We must own our sad stories. This is what connects us as humans. We can enjoy the beautiful days because we have felt suffering. We can enjoy health because we have felt illness. We appreciate success because we have struggled. We welcome joy because we have felt despair. Emotions are made bearable by the powerfully strong connectivity in the network of our family, friends, coworkers and neighbors. We all have threads wrapped tightly and safely around our hearts while the other end of the thread reaches into the web we all share. The longer we live the more sad stories we will hear, have and hold. The stories will vary in versions, time frames and circumstances, but sad stories connect all of us. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie’s Life Lesson: The longer we live the more sad stories we will have. The darkest of times open us up to learning the most. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ YOUR TURN...
Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below. And please feel free to email me at: [email protected]. Thank you! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2022 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward and share this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information.
4 Comments
Lynne Sonnek
9/11/2022 09:46:05 pm
Pennie. I feel so blessed to have crossed paths with you at the HPH conference. To sit and listen to your story after the banquet about losing your son son 15 years ago then on to your terrible car accident and the healing you endured, the obstacles are life-changing. Thanks for the encouragement that there is a possibility to find joy again even though it’s been 3+ years since our daughter Andra transitioned. Thank you for the books and I look forward to following you via social media!! Hopefully run in to you again soon, you are an absolute delight ❤️❤️
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9/14/2022 05:08:53 pm
Lynne,
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Erin Palmquist
9/13/2022 07:11:33 pm
Just read your article in the paper, Isn't 15 years long enough? Our son passed 12 years ago in June at the age of 23, he would be 35 now....but he's not. Like you said, 12 years is a long time, but not long enough to get over it, be done with grief or forget him. We too will grieve for him until the day we join him in heaven and say oh Grant I love you, and he says you too Mom. Thank you Pennie
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9/14/2022 05:00:19 pm
Erin,
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