Heartache

Crushing heartache, palpable and raw, constant at first, is dimming in intensity and frequency.

With age and life experience comes an astute connection between human spirits.  Pain felt by one is literally perceived and experienced in another and with it, the overwhelming realization that nothing can be done about it, merely ride it out, knowing that if appeasement is delivered, theft will rob around the next bend.  Soul to soul love and connection, parent to child, to grandchild, to parent, to family, so strong that a slight change in vocal tone, posture, or facial expression betrays outer fortitude and brandishes inner anguish.

Loss feels permanent and complete, not only for those connected flesh to flesh, but for those once or twice removed.  Grief for the loss and grief for the grieving cannot be explained in terms of eternity, with a simple explanation that life goes on and on.  Wrapping the mind around unfathomable reason warped by human experience is an impossibility for most. The complexity of understanding too enormous.

Somehow gaping holes torn through hearts are filled in, and like a scar of the flesh with visible reminders, hearts will never be quite the same again.   Tiny pieces and bits, bits of love and empathy of souls touching souls through God's hand take a place in the dark abyss creating a mesh, joining together to allow the healing, the going on.  The sensitivity and goodness of soul lends strength to another, but will one day desperately borrow back for its own survival.  Benevolence, kindness, generosity, and sacrifice, tools which make no sense for personal survival, make reason realized in the survival of all souls.

Rowan, I pray that I can always remember holding your tiny hand, your soft hair, your perfect toes and feet.  May I never forget the sweet love of your parents, enveloping you and your brother the day you came into our lives and then so silently left.