by Corey Whelan
Everyone who knows me, including the 1,237 BFF's I have never met on Facebook, know that I ran the Tunnel to Towers 9/11 Memorial race today. I ran, my kids ran, and so did 24,997 other people. We all crossed that finish line. And Included in that number was a rather large contingent of wounded warriers from Iraq and Afghanistan, who seemed to catapult over the finish line in their wheelchairs.
All of the pieces of my life seem to converge together sometimes, when I think of the struggles we as human beings go through. So many challenges and so many options, so many different ways to face those challenges. Do we curl up into the fetal position and stay there forever? Do we throw on widow's weeds and never look back? Do we instead opt to find comfort in the face of a friend, the loyalty of a dog, the scent of coffee, a book, anything, how do you get through your darkest of days? How do you get through the very darkest day? That one. The BFN. The hard phone call. The worst day. That one.
Struggles are inherent in the human condition and the only thing that keeps us going is courage, and love. Sometimes we provide it for ourselves and sometimes its a loaner. That''s it. That's all she wrote.
So today, which began for me with news about the death of an old friend and which ended with a different kind of hurt, but which also included the race that I love, cherish, people I cling, no wait cleave to, and a courage that will never die, this day, the worst day, reminded me of words that I pull up every now and then, as needed.
This too will pass
by Grace Noll Crowell
This too will pass. O heart, say it over and over - out of your deepest sorrow, out of your deepest grief, no hurt can last forever - perhaps tomorrow will bring relief.
This too will pass. It will spend itself - its fury will die as the wind dies down with the setting sun; assuaged and calm, you will rest again, forgetting a thing that is done.
Repeat it again and again, O heart, for your comfort; this, too, will pass as surely as passed before the old forgotten pain, and the other sorrows that once you bore.
As certain as stars at night, or dawn after darkness, inherent as the lift of the blowing grass, whatever your despair or frustration - this, too, will pass!
And it will.
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