Life goes on, even when your heart feels broken. Sometimes it’s hard to see how it can, but it does. When you’re in the middle of a trauma, it’s important to hold on, and just keeping putting one foot in front of the other.
My last post, Sometimes You Just Need to Grieve, was written soon after the death of my nephew, Michael. I’m writing this post the morning after returning from several days spent with our family. We all came together, from far and near, to mark his passing, to share memories of a life that was gone too quickly, and to comfort each other in our time of grieving. It’s been a time of great sorrow, but there was joy too, as we welcomed a new baby into the family. He was born just a few days before Michael died. Life is like that. There are peaks and valleys for all of us.
This morning, my husband and I went down to the beach to watch the sunrise. Our minds and hearts were so full of memories of the last few days. As we talked, I remembered this poem, which I had found a few years ago and sent to a dear friend on the anniversary of her son’s death. If you’ve lost a loved one, I hope it brings you comfort.
The love that once was born can not die
For it has become part of us, of our life,
Woven into the very texture of our being.
Each of us would wish to leave some part of ourselves,
So here and now we bear witness to the one we knew in life,
Who now in death bequeaths a subtle part, precious and beloved,
Which will be with us in truth and beauty,
In dignity and courage and love
To the end of our days.
by Algernon Black
We are each forever changed by knowing and loving those people who are so special to us. Even after death, they live on — in our memories, in our hearts, in the deepest part of our being. Because we’ve loved them, we look at the world in a different way. Because we’ve loved them, we move through our days with a fuller, richer sense of what matters. Even when we can no longer reach out our hands and touch them, we will hold them in our very souls.
This morning, walking on that beach, celebrating the promise of a new day, we thought of Michael, and he was there with us. We held him gently in our hearts, and we walked on — one foot in front of the other.
Until next time,
Linda