A hair. A teeny tiny, maybe a quarter of an inch (if that) hair. Your hair. Remember, I thought I'd cleaned them all up. I thought I'd seen the last of your hair, but I should have known better. Hair isn't something easily gotten rid of as anyone who has had to clean up can attest to. Jerry's hair was dark originally but as age does to all, the gray began to creep in and take over. Keeping his hair cut very short the gray was still noticeable, but not glaringly so.
The tiny hair was found when I moved a green scrubbie up off the light blue ceramic dish it sat upon. Just a single dark hair there on the otherwise clean dish and it was larger than life in my heart. I didn't know if I would cry or smile, and then I was somehow managing both.
I miss you! Tears.
A little reminder of you! Smile.
My heart aches! Tears.
The memory of the softness of your hair on my fingers, my lips. Smile.
To never caress your cheek, or trace my fingertip slowly along the shape of your ear, never to tease the hair on the back of your neck, tickling you. Tears.
Tears.
Tears.
Just tears now as all I've lost in losing you sweeps over any ability to smile. The trigger was a lone tiny hair, the result- a mix of emotions as grief began a gentle war against the tentative peace my heart had found. A passive war for mere moments because once the tears began in earnest my heart squeeze tight on the flimsy dam erected to keep them at bay.
The roar of pain created by the river of weeping flooding my soul was silent except for the gasping anguish made with each breath I tried to take. Stop! Just stop! It hurts too much! It's not supposed to hurt this much still!
They tell me to stop!
They tell me to be strong!
They tell me they understand, but do their hearts bleed with the cutting tears of sorrow's razor sharp knife!? And if so, then they know! They… know… the pain and are a testament to its rise and..
to its fall.
They know the dance, the moves so reminiscent of an unscripted, unknown chorography. This dance of grief is one we must create out of our own music of mourning. I may waltz in the pain holding the memories tight, I may sway languidly as those memories ease so I can live in tomorrow's memories of today. A frenzy of passion may seize my entire being as I twirl between the whirlwind of the past and present. It's an ongoing dance all my own and to each- to everyone's - own.
Death, grief, mourning, a daily occurrence for all of us. We may remain untouched by death's intimacy for many years, or it may haunt us from a young age. Children losing parents, parents losing children, young, old, it greets us all differently.
Right now I grieve a loss bitter, sorrowful, aching to me in a way no prior death I've encountered has touched me.
Let me grieve.
Let me share my moments of grief with you.
Also, let me reassure you…
I smile. I laugh. I sing. I pray. I worship. I rejoice. I have the peace of my Lord… all of this… and yes, moments of the deepest grief.
I'm not living in darkness, but I descend to the darkness of grieving as a part of my dance through life, only to ascend from that momentary descent to…
get on with living without my husband, without Jerry, with his love, without his touch, without his kiss, without his beautiful eyes smiling their knowing brilliance into mine, along with the cutest grin of his lips. I miss you, Jerry, I miss you so much.
*******
Isa 51:11 Therefore the redeemed of the LORD shall return, and come with singing unto Zion; and everlasting joy shall be upon their head: they shall obtain gladness and joy; and sorrow and mourning shall flee away.
2Co 4:17 For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;
2Co 4:18 While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.
Mat 5:4 Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted
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