Monday People
Those who grieve feel like
Saturday people, in the Christian Holy Week lexicon of events. They wait in the
dark, uncertain space between death and life, between the despair of Good Friday
and the joy of Easter Sunday, finding it hard to believe that anything is left,
because everywhere they look, they see destruction and emptiness.
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Thank you for this one, Mark. I find a desert, then oasis, then more desert when I hoped the oasis would go on and on. I have not found a new harbor--or place at the table--that feels trustworthy and constant. Of course, memory idealizes what life was like before a loss, but there was always the one person to turn to in difficult moments. Independence feels overrated this morning. Another walk? More meditation? Just feeling what is?
ReplyDeleteI'm thankful that both of us kept journals during grief, because memory does idealize the past. The journals keep us honest. Yes, such joy when that first oasis appears. And then more desert. But then another oasis. Not having that one other person who is always there is hard. A walk? Yes. Meditation? Yes - feel deeply what is, breathe, and release.
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