It seems that some summers are filled with weddings,
and others filled with funerals.
Two separate occasions where love will be the focus. Funerals are difficult for me. I wish I could attend them with the same sense of calm and stoic acceptance as my mother.
In order to have life you must accept death at the end.
There are no appropriate words to use when a loved one dies. “Sad”? No. Not adequate enough. “I’m sad the Flames lost” or “I’m sad holidays are over soon.” “Heartbroken”? No, overly used when referring to any experience of loss. “I’m heartbroken I’ve lost my garnet pendant.”
“Devastated?” Seems more in tune with war or natural disasters.
The most adequate quote I’ve found that even remotely comes close to being worthy of encapsulating how one feels when it comes to the death of someone who is loved was written by Thornton Wilder in “The Bridge of San Luis Rey”:
“But the love will have been enough; all those impulses of love return to the love that made them. Even memory is not necessary for love. There is a land of the living and a land of the dead and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning.”
What is important is not words but feelings.
Even “memory is not necessary”.
It’s the feeling that is not
but so strong that it has remained an
A love that transcends the here and now because it always existed.
And will exist even after death.
Which means there is no loss.
There is no absence of the person because what is important has remained: the feeling of contentment and security of commitment, or the simplicity of a love that just “is” and exists without conditions or the confinement of time.
And there is a little bit of comfort in this.