Autumn air does a heart-dance
on branches already gone barren;
the misty air clings to golden leaves,
making the trees bend even lower.
It is a season to hold the trees close,
to stand with them in their grieving.
It is a time to open my inner being
to the misty truths of my own goodbyes.
~from Joyce Rupp's Praying Our Goodbyes
Two years ago I lost my mom quite suddenly. This death handed me an understandable, palpable grief. I miss her every day but my mourning has ended and life goes on in its natural course. But how am I to grieve for my dear friend, who for all intents and purposes has already left me, not through death but through severe brain trauma. How I want to scream out to the universe, to God, how does this happen? Why? Why? Why? I am not sure what is worse - the horror of what has happened to my dear friend, or the unquenchable anguish gripping her husband. The reality of this kind of pain seems unbearable. No words can ease the intensity of this kind of grieving. It is time to open my inner being to the misty truths of not just to goodbye but to a necessary loss of hope.
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