I was doing well until I hit the freeway exit. My eyes began to well up as the familiar sadness hit yet again. I’d wear my sunglasses as long as I could. I’d do my best to hold it together and be strong. Today, the sadness was different. I pulled into the church parking lot, pulled myself together and joined the crowd.
The hearse arrived, followed by the limousine. We all cried as she, and his family, got out of the limousine. Today it wasn’t about me as much as it was about her. I tried to keep that in mind as each familiar person asked me how I was doing.
We are both too young to be widows, but nobody asked for my opinion on this topic. It wasn’t important I guess. As I listened to the mass, I tried to take in the words of the priest. I sifted through the various messages for some golden nugget of wisdom.
Afterwards, I sifted through the caverns of my own heart to find a little more hope and courage. I am crawling (however slowly) out from under the rubble to the life that remains. I will help pull her out too – when she is ready.
I hope that you can find strength in each other.
Even though your are still breathing the dust from your own rubble, you are still more “qualified” than most to help her because you’ve been through it. May you be a blessing to her when she reaches out!
Even though your are still breathing the dust from your own rubble, you are still more “qualified” than most to help her because you’ve been through it. May you be a blessing to her when she reaches out!
Julie,
I am sorry for your friend and for you having to see (and feel) the process (the service….) again. Hopefully your friend and you will find comfort in each other. Gosh, hang in there!!!!!!!!
Love,
Linda
what they said.