MAY 25 There is no question of getting beyond it The little boat enters the dark fearful gulf and our only cry is to escape—“put me on land again.” But it’s useless Nobody listens The shadowy figure rows on One ought to sit still and uncover one’s eyes —KATHERINE MANSFIELD Perhaps we try to escape If we not speak of it… If we drink ourselves into numbness… If we submerge ourselves in work so we don’t have time to dwell on it… If we sleep, we will forget… But our silence shouts to us Drugs will destroy us At the end of the harried workday we look in the mirror and see our despair And when we escape into sleep—we have to face the truth all over again when we wake up Years ago I was riding on a ferris wheel with my daughter and, being fearful of heights and imagining all kinds of accidents, I covered my eyes with my hands She would have none of it “Open your eyes, Mom!” she called I did, and it wasn’t so scary after all Better to open our eyes and face our loss It will cost less in the long run MAY 26 The refusal to love is the only unbearable thing —MADELEINE L’ENGLE Sometimes it seems that this grief we are experiencing is the only unbearable thing But think—if we had no one we loved enough to mourn for, how flat, how terrible, our lives would be And this particular person…what would our life have been without this one whom we loved so much? Was it worth the pain we are experiencing to have had this loved one for the time that we did? Yes, but— Of course This grief is not to be dismissed by some attempted appeal to reason Not now Not ever But it may help from time to time to look on the underside of this pain—as one lifts a leaf to look at the silvery underside—and note what riches we have had in the life of this one whose death we mourn Sometime down the road—and when that will be is as variable as the people who mourn—the grief will be on the underside and the sense of blessing and gratitude will be the bright surface, luminous and green Sometimes when the pain is overwhelming, I will try to surround myself with the memory of love MAY 27 I wouldn’t mind dying young…I’ve had a full life already —MARY HICKMAN We who have lost loved ones through sudden accidents find ourselves scouring our memories for portents Were there any clues, any indicators, that something terrible like this might happen? If we can find them, perhaps they inject a measure of meaning into a life thrown into chaos On some subconscious level did our loved one know? My daughter made that statement, casually, during the months preceding her sudden death at sixteen in a horseback-riding accident “Mary!” I said “One world at a time.” After she died I remembered her words Had she known better than I? And what is going on, that it may be possible to have some vague foreknowledge of an event like that? If that is possible, what other unfathomable mysteries exist in a universe of which we may know only the smallest fragment? These “signs and wonders” not mitigate the sorrow of loss, but they may give us hope that on some level a Transcendant Scheme is at work and knows what it’s doing I will keep my mind open to all possibilities of knowledge and faith MAY 28 O God, you have let me pass the day in peace; let me pass the night in peace, O Lord who has no lord There is no strength but in you You alone have no obligation Under your hand I pass the night You are my Mother and my Father Amen —TRADITIONAL BORAN (AFRICAN) PRAYER To have passed any length of time in peace when we are grieving is an achievement It is not to be counted on: we well to invoke help for another stretch of peace And to invoke help from one who is totally available It is a touching piece of wisdom in this prayer that the one who prays, prays to a Lord who doesn’t have prior commitments—Pay attention to me, please The appeal is to our ultimate experience of comfort and safety—a mother and a father And yet—a gentle reminder—not a distracted mother and father, please, but one who can pay full attention Then we can afford to trust that mother and father to see us through the night In my weakness I can turn in trust to One who is strong MAY 29 Did someone say that there would be an end, An end, Oh, an end, to love and mourning? —MAY SARTON No, not to either And that’s the comfort, I suppose—that though we don’t ever “get over” a major loss, we don’t “get over” the love we shared with that person, either—a love that, in ways we will come to know, stays with us and continues to enrich our life over the years But, a caution We need not confuse the mourning with the image of the person we loved If we allow them to overlap too much, then we cannot let go of the mourning because we would lose the loved one, too But they are different, and we will better with our lives if, as soon as we are able, we make a conscious separation of the loved person from the grief over his or her loss Each has its place, but they don’t always need to blend together Though I know my memory of my loved one will always carry a tinge of sadness, I will be able to put that in the background—if I want to ... her sudden death at sixteen in a horseback-riding accident “Mary!” I said “One world at a time.” After she died I remembered her words Had she known better than I? And what is going on, that it... which we may know only the smallest fragment? These “signs and wonders” not mitigate the sorrow of loss, but they may give us hope that on some level a Transcendant Scheme is at work and knows what... No, not to either And that’s the comfort, I suppose—that though we don’t ever “get over” a major loss, we don’t “get over” the love we shared with that person, either—a love that, in ways we will