How can sorrow be beautiful?
This question has been weighing heavily on my mind lately.
My thought processes can be kind of disjointed. But follow along with me on my journey to the realization that sorrow is indeed beautiful:
Grief, at least in the beginning, is all-encompassing. My tears flowed freely. I don’t think I stopped crying for a week. I even woke up crying in the night. My Love’s death, while not unexpected, was still a shock to my being. There was the funeral, shiva, and visitors. But then I was left to myself.
I chose writing to work through my grief and while I’m doing better, tears still flow. A favorite author of mine Tom Zuba- in his book “Permission to Mourn” suggested that one lean into grief. That only by feeling grief and leaning into it can one move forward to become radiant.
Now 83 days on the tears still fall and the sledgehammer of grief hits at the most inopportune times. However, I welcome the tears. I welcome the memories of my Love- they mean that in some way he is still with me. I welcome the small reminders that I had him in my life for 4987 days. That we shared a love so pure and true. That I was the last person he loved as a husband.
My tears are just me feeling sorry for myself because he is no longer with me in the physical body. But he is with me in so many other ways. He’s with me in my heart forever. He is with me in my being through the things he taught me. He is with me at times in my dreams. He is with me when others share stories of their lives with him. He is also with me when I hear his daughter’s wry sense of humor, or when my grandson corrects me on a date that I miscalculated.
So I welcome the tears. I welcome the remembrances. I see them as my love reminding me that he is still with me. Reminders of the love we shared in the short time we were together, and the lessons I learned from him along the way.
Therefore, sorrow is beautiful.
© Lisa P 17 September 2019