To mourn with those who mourn
JULY 06, 2014
Every month since February, I’ve received a text on the 27th: “Thinking of you.”
The sender is a dear friend who has been endlessly supportive and understanding. Her mother passed away from cancer when my friend was in her early 20s. She knows the pace of grief, and she has taught me about the fellowship of loss.
I’ve been so amazed by the support and love shown to me and my family throughout this journey. The deep pain of loss isn’t limited to the absence of the person who has passed; it is elongated to take in all that was anticipated or expected. I think of her absence when I need a recipe for a family dish. I think of her absence when I imagine Christmas decorating without her. I think of her absence on my wedding day or when I have a child. The people we truly love we weave into the patterns of our lives as if they breathe along with the rise and fall of our chest.
To lose is not to only lose the present but also the future and the memories of the past. There are questions I never asked her and stories she didn’t tell me. So, when we mourn, we mourn behind and in front of us. That depth of loss can feel very overwhelming at times. In moments I have felt the pressure of drowning in sorrow, only to be saved by the vitality of life ... people sweeping me into their arms and hearts, reminding me that there is still love to be found and life to be lived.
Even though loss is very personal and never the same for any two people, I’ve been given cords of comfort from your stories and your support. I’ve wrapped myself in these bands and willed myself to keep moving. So many who have lost parents have sat with me, cried with me, and mourned with me. Others who haven’t lost a parent but who know the bitter sting of loss have extended their empathy to me. These sensitive souls have taught me that to mourn with those who mourn is a special ministry of humanity...it is tragic and heart wrenching and yet there is such a thin string of pure beauty wrapped in those moments. A beauty testifying that deep mourning only follows great love.
I thank you for teaching me to remember the love that binds us all. In losing a portion of my heart, I have been given love in return. Now, it is my task to pass along the love that comes to those who have been drenched in mourning and loss. It is my mantle to mourn with those who mourn and to stand with them in sorrow and pain. Perhaps death is an inevitable passage because it carves out our souls so that we may love more.