The world won't stop spinning

Even for birth or death

The morning my mom died we left the cave of her hospital room and stepped outside where the sun was shining and people were bustling to work as if it were any other day.

It was a Tuesday just past 9 am and I got in my car and drove straight to Starbucks.

It was my normal morning routine, but nothing was normal.

I was appalled that people were talking about dogs and vacations and the barista steamed my milk without even acknowledging me.

The world continued to turn despite this monumental event having just occurred.

I wanted to yell at everyone, “My mom just died for fuck’s sake! Have some respect!”

Instead, I got my latte and checked to make sure there was zero foam before sleepwalking my way back to my car.

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

I’ve felt this feeling a few other times in my life.

Times when my personal world seemed to screech to a halt but the planet kept spinning.

Like, those first hours out of the hospital after having my babies. 

It always seem to be the running into the coffee shop which jars me most. You would think I would learn and just go home and hide, but in a way I crave the reminder that life continues.

There was Sept 11, 2001 and Oct 7, 2023 and Nov 8, 2016 and Nov 6, 2024.

What’s so mind-blowing about all of these “days after” is that while they feel like they have cracked the foundation of the earth beneath me, they are rather unremarkable for the rest of the world.

A baby is born just as someone is laid to rest. Someone is laughing as another is crying. People are celebrating as others mourn.

Nature is neutral. The birds keep chirping. The sun rises and sets. Things still need to get done. Survival prevails.

Life doesn’t pause for our pain or our joy.

That’s the nature of it—flux and stagnation. Ebbs and flows.

And that is what makes every moment precious. Nothing is permanent. Especially us.

The world keeps turning no matter what.