It was not my best day. I had a good and busy day at work. But Willie's death has hit me harder than I expected. Maybe it reminds me too much of yours. Maybe I'm more sensitive to widowhood than I used to me. Maybe it's the similarity between his accident and mine. Or maybe it's just because he's been my friend for years. I do know that his viewing tomorrow will be the first I've been to since yours, and the first I've ever been to by myself.
Losing a friend is difficult in it's own right. But this is also reminding me of the horrible wrenching pain that comes at the moment of loss. Now, a year later, I ache for you. But when you died it felt like I was being torn in two, like you and I were two halves of one whole, and were being ripped back into two halves. And it can't be done. You can't unscramble an egg. Father is right - half of me is gone. And it's that tearing, rending pain that I'm remembering now.
I suspect that this photo was first pinned to represent two people moving toward each other. To me, it is two people reaching for each other in vain, losing their grip on each other's hands as they're separated. But it strikes me now, for the first time, that one day I will move toward you again - we'll re-gain the grip we lost. The photo will come full circle and we'll move toward each other and hold hands again.
Next week is Holy Week. We'll have Bridegroom Matins on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday evenings, Holy Unction on Wednesday. Thursday we'll have the Liturgy of the Last Supper in the morning and the 12 Passion Gospels at night. Friday will be the liturgical anniversary of your death, and I'll go to the Lamentations in the evening and cry for you. The Resurrection will be just around the corner. Our resurrection is just around the corner, too, and there is hope - for restoration in the Kingdom of God and reunion with those we love. So reach out your hand for me and I'll come.
Stretching my hand toward you,
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