When a friend, E, sent her condolences to me over the sudden demise of my cousin, I said to her it's times like these that I wish I didn't love so deeply or were so involved in people's lives. I was in massive pain and could not stop crying for three days. I felt like I was going crazy for he was absolutely fine the last time I saw him. Plus, those younger than you have no right to go earlier.
She replied that's what makes life rich, meaningful and beautiful. I concur, and yet, it is also unbearably heartbreaking. I am ever grateful that many people prayed, and continue to pray, for not just the repose of J's soul, but for me and his immediate family. I managed to wake up very early on the day of the funeral, calm, which was what I needed to be to give J the proper send off, and it was a special one. The funeral mass was beautiful and those who came were touched by it.
Now that everything is over, here comes the really hard part, coping with the loss. On top of missing the person, one has to process feelings of guilt mixed with regret, of missed opportunities to show love, to have been more involved in that person's life.
We lament our busyness and self-absorption, our less than charitable thoughts, our less than admirable behaviour; if only I had known. If only... The thing is, we will never do enough even if we did do the best we could, and we will never fully appreciate someone, until they are gone. Sadly.
Letting go is very difficult but the words I proclaimed at the funeral mass from the book of Wisdom 4:4-14 console me and assure me that J is rewarded with eternal life now. He is with God, free to be the amazing and gorgeous person God created him to be, no more pain, sorrow, shame, tears, and fears. How much better can it get?
Even as I deal with the grief of losing J, I have seen many blessings that have come out of his leaving. The outpouring of love has been tremendous, from friends, family, fellow parishioners from Saint Teresa, and my ICPE communities. How can one not believe there is a God when His mercy is all encompassing and His love so abundant in times of tragedy?
J's leaving has taught me to treasure those I love a little more by being kinder, less impatient and more tolerant; to speak words of affirmation more frequently and tell those I love that I love them. It has also taught me to be less afraid of life, to go forth boldly and live fully, time is ticking, so what am I waiting for? But perhaps the biggest lesson would be to risk rejection by being open and vulnerable, and allow others to love me for who I am. If I do not let others through the front door of my heart, then I am only cheating myself of opportunities to encounter Jesus personally and letting Him love me.
Love is messy, painful, energy zapping, and it requires hard work and sacrifice, but love is also sublime, divine, and the call of every human heart. J, I have loved you from the day you were born, and I will love you to the day I die, and beyond. I look forward to our eventual reunion in God's embrace. In the meantime, I will honour your memory by attempting to be as gentle and hospitable as you were. This is how I will remember you best.
She replied that's what makes life rich, meaningful and beautiful. I concur, and yet, it is also unbearably heartbreaking. I am ever grateful that many people prayed, and continue to pray, for not just the repose of J's soul, but for me and his immediate family. I managed to wake up very early on the day of the funeral, calm, which was what I needed to be to give J the proper send off, and it was a special one. The funeral mass was beautiful and those who came were touched by it.
Now that everything is over, here comes the really hard part, coping with the loss. On top of missing the person, one has to process feelings of guilt mixed with regret, of missed opportunities to show love, to have been more involved in that person's life.
We lament our busyness and self-absorption, our less than charitable thoughts, our less than admirable behaviour; if only I had known. If only... The thing is, we will never do enough even if we did do the best we could, and we will never fully appreciate someone, until they are gone. Sadly.
Letting go is very difficult but the words I proclaimed at the funeral mass from the book of Wisdom 4:4-14 console me and assure me that J is rewarded with eternal life now. He is with God, free to be the amazing and gorgeous person God created him to be, no more pain, sorrow, shame, tears, and fears. How much better can it get?
Even as I deal with the grief of losing J, I have seen many blessings that have come out of his leaving. The outpouring of love has been tremendous, from friends, family, fellow parishioners from Saint Teresa, and my ICPE communities. How can one not believe there is a God when His mercy is all encompassing and His love so abundant in times of tragedy?
J's leaving has taught me to treasure those I love a little more by being kinder, less impatient and more tolerant; to speak words of affirmation more frequently and tell those I love that I love them. It has also taught me to be less afraid of life, to go forth boldly and live fully, time is ticking, so what am I waiting for? But perhaps the biggest lesson would be to risk rejection by being open and vulnerable, and allow others to love me for who I am. If I do not let others through the front door of my heart, then I am only cheating myself of opportunities to encounter Jesus personally and letting Him love me.
Love is messy, painful, energy zapping, and it requires hard work and sacrifice, but love is also sublime, divine, and the call of every human heart. J, I have loved you from the day you were born, and I will love you to the day I die, and beyond. I look forward to our eventual reunion in God's embrace. In the meantime, I will honour your memory by attempting to be as gentle and hospitable as you were. This is how I will remember you best.
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