Let It Be

There is no remedy for the sorrow of losing someone we love, nor should there be.
Sorrow is not an illness or an affliction. It is the only response possible to the death
of a loved one, and an affirmation of just how much we value life itself,
for all its wonder and beauty and satisfaction.
—Nina Sankovitch

Last night I spent the evening laughing and crying and hugging with some dear friends who had lost a dear friend. She was in her early 40s and perfectly healthy. She was one of the most kind, loving, friendly and inclusive people I've known.

Her passing was completely unexpected. When I came home from work, I saw mentions of her sudden loss on Facebook that were just too confusing to process. I was glad to have spent the evening with people who loved her. One of the best words I heard someone utter last night was “baffling.” It is—truly baffling.

As I left her home and the gathering of friends, a line from one of my favorite Beatles songs was running through my head: “There will be an answer. Let it be.”

And when the night is cloudy
There is still a light that shines on me.
Shine on till tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music,
Mother Mary comes to me,
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be . . .
There will be an answer, let it be.

I love the duality of the phrase “let it be.” These words of wisdom act as both a prayer and an answer, thanks to that beautifully ambiguous “it.” Let it be. It refers to both the current situation and a future desire at the same time. It is both a pleading for something to happen and the answer to let God do his work, both the desire for a change and the calming answer that all will be well. I can envision a loving Heavenly Father whispering, “Hush, I know what I’m doing. Let it be.” Even as we pray to him for peace and for comfort and for light, even as we pray for him to let it be—whatever the particular “it” is that we’re praying for.

As I think about the wonderful woman we lost yesterday, my heart breaks for her family and the many, many friends who are deeply hurting, who are feeling times of darkness and cloudy nights and baffled confusion at the loss of such a good and dear friend. We wonder how and why this could happen and how the void she left will be filled. I wish I knew. But I know this: There will be an answer. Let it be.