On the eve of the one year anniversary of Pauls passing, I am reading the devotional for today from Healing After Loss by Martha Whitmore Hickman. Tonight all the hills of young grief have opened up again; the mad words, the bitter resentment, the fluttering in the stomach, the nightmare reality, the wallowed-in tears. For in grief nothing stays put. One keeps on emerging from the phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral? C. S. Lewis it comes without warning, the feeling of being plunged back into the freshness of new grief. The same bewilderment, the feeling of being disoriented, our life disorganized. Often we dont know just what has set us off again. And we thought we were doing better. The loved one we have lost has probably been with us for a long time. Its going to take us a long time to adapt to that loss. It wont happen smoothly, either, in some sort of up hill gradual climb out of the valley of despair. Its more like the work of cleaning a rock-strewn New England field. With great labor the rocks are removed, but then the land shifts, the seasons change, and new rocks work their way to the surface. Eventually the land will be cleared, but it may take a long time. I will be gentle with myself, accepting these storms of the psyche as part of my passage on the road to recovery.
Posted on: Thu, 22 May 2014 15:55:23 +0000
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