Things change. People leave. Life does not stop or stand still for anyone.

Several years ago, I had open heart surgery, and in many ways, it changed my life. I like to think of it as having had a broken heart that could be fixed, at least for a while. I had to manage my life differently after that, eat different things, do different things, feel different things.

I had to re-acquaint myself with my heart and body in a completely new way, take new kinds of medicines monitor myself in a way I had never had to do before. The experience of having one’s heart stopped, and then taken out and rebuilt, is transformative, even though there are a lot worse things one could be in the hospital for. It was a great shock to me, an even greater one for my body.

There was a person, a woman, who was central to my life before and after that surgery. I can’t reveal her name or position, but we became friends. She was – is – deeply religious, but one of those religious people whose faith drives them to do good, not evil.

She guided me through this experience, gave me life-altering advice, earned my complete trust. Unlike many people involved in the bewildering and often merciless world of health care, especially many of the  men, she took the trouble to know me, understand me, encourage me, listen to me and give me the strength and guidance to recover.

She was central to my recovery and to my health and well-being in more ways than I can describe.

She was the fixed point in the upended universe, the one place I could always go for truth and comfort.

She was the rock, the anchor, on which I depended to get through the maze of often painful and sometimes frightening decisions, advice, scores of ancillary medical issues. Because of her, I was able to move along, be healthy, feel healthy, I can’t say enough about her, and it would not be a stretch to say I owe much of my life to her, if not all of it.

Today I met her and I noticed the almost stricken look on her face. I was worried. We know each other too well.

She took me aside and told me that she would probably be moving on sometime in the near future, her life was changing in many good and exciting ways, and that meant moving away. She was profoundly happy about this change, and she wanted me to know, she knew I could handle it. I could see this was a difficult thing for her to tell me, she was obsessively conscientious and caring, she had a look of worry and guilt on her face.

She told me she had been reading my blog, and she admired the work I was doing, she said I was one of those people who had decided to give to other people rather than just myself. She said we were along  in that and other ways. That meant a lot to me.

In the moments I had to react I had a very powerful epiphany and insight into myself and into life. This was about change, and the ways in which we either do accept it or don’t.

This was another change moment, another opportunity to see that change is not an aberration or isolated and shocking thing, it is life itself. We and everything we love in the world will die, as we will, and suffer, as we will, and experience joy, as we will.

I could see it two ways – the world is going to Hell and here is another change to absorb, and there is nothing stable and secure any longer and everything is changing.
Or I could see it in another way: this is the nature of life, it has always been the nature of life. Every generation reels from change and sees change as unexpected and often terrifying, something to lament.

If you read almost any novel in any generation at any time in history, you will find a hero or writer struggling to accept change, and feeling betrayed and overwhelmed by it. Every day, it seems, something I knew and relied on is gone, moved or suddenly obsolete. This is not the exception, it is the rule, and I can either complain and whine about it, or embrace it, along with the gift of life itself.

Today, I found that I was internalizing change and embracing and accepting it. I was  uncharacteristically proud of myself. I had changed. I realized today that I was not afraid of change any more.

I could not do this to this woman, I thought, show the slightest remorse or sense of betrayal or abandonment. Life stops for nobody.

She had give me everything she could have given me, and much more than I expected. I barely skipped a beat and said, “I am so happy for you, I admire and respect you so much for what you have done with your life and what you are doing.

I  hope you don’t feel badly about leaving me, you have been nothing but wonderful to me, and I am grateful for you, and because of you, I can take good care of myself and make good decisions. And you will go on to help others. Congratulations to you.”

She said she was concerned about the change and how it might affect me and others, and I said ” listen, you will find others to help and do your good work. I am so impressed by your courage and willingness to change, so how could I possibly be upset with you for changing.” And the thing was, I wasn’t just saying it, I believed it.

I could see an enormous look of relief cross her face, I could see her take a deep breath of relief. I was aware that I would not always have felt that way, and like everyone else, was often embittered by change, sometimes it seems like everything I loved and valued in the world is no longer certain. But more and more, I have come to see that change and our response to change is what defines us and shapes our view of life.

Dealing with change and accepting it, from the death of a parent or the death of a dog, or a friend who leaves,  is essential to health, happiness and any kind of spiritual life.

Life does not stop for anyone, and I can either embrace that or live my life in fear and lament.