“How long must we endure such piercing loss,
such staggering blows, such pained goodbyes,
such wrenching cost for simply loving those you’ve given us to love?”
“How long must we wear these mourner’s clothes? How long must we drink from this well of sorrow?”
“We will willingly carry this ache.
We carry it, O Father, to you.”
Every Moment Holy II p208,241
Today was our third oldest grandson’s high school graduation. Until these past several months, it’s the kind of experience I have always assumed that I would attend with Pam.
Her absence, the hole, the longing to not experience these things alone is palpable. The fact that tomorrow is Mother’s Day does not help in the least. Add to that that I emptied a drawer of her clothes today and you have my trifecta and the sense of my loss, perhaps better, the sense and source of my lost.
The excerpt from the liturgy that I chose today ends well. It does not end necessarily on a note of hope, rather it ends with my renewed commitment to bring this pain to the one whom I know is capable of igniting my hope and restoring my soul.
I bring it to the one who intercedes for me and is able to make all things work together for my good and there I shall rest. Here I shall find my rest. In him, I take my shelter.
“Oh Lord, I hang on thee; I see, believe, live, when thy will, not mine, is done.” The Valley of Vision p 14