It’s harder and harder to sit in my grief. Is this eleven year grief? Am I pushing it down, tucking it under the rug? The mess is still there, just gently hidden. Kick the rug and the dust flies, grief everywhere.
The quiet times are fewer and further between as my kids get older and need me more. Maybe this is why. As the kids grow, so does my grief. Maybe grief and love are the same. Grief grows over time as love does. Is this just life without him? Living with a hole in my heart. Maybe it is okay. Maybe it’s not.
Grief is not linear. There is no timeline. The destination of grief is where? Does it settle in and make a home in the hole in our hearts? Will it learn to co-exist with joy? To get to the end of life and know we loved well, grieved well, didn’t waste the good or the suffering, the joy or the pain. I circle back again. Grief is not the absence of love. Grief is the manifestation of love, lost love, longing love. Grief is the hole left by love. The love of a child or parent or friend or dreams. But it can be filled. It can be healed. It can be redeemed.
Only by Love itself. By the One True Love. The Lover of our Souls, the Creator of all good things. The Redeemer. Lord, teach us to love. Teach us to grieve. Teach us to know you more in this bitter and broken and joy-filled life. Thank you for being Love to fill all voids.
