|Jan 26, 2013||Thatís Bad, Thatís Good|
Title: The Idealist
Date: February 13, 2015
At first they thought it was stomach flu. Later that day when she was headed into surgery, he realized that she might not live. She didn’t survive. He said, “I kept thinking, 'She’ll be okay'. It was like holding a rope and watching it run through your hands just like you do every day. But when the rope’s end flies from your fingers, you stare, disbelieving.”
Weeks later, he stopped by on his Harley, wearing his biker’s colors. We talked about the suddenness of her death, of his new motorcycle that they bought together and the lonely rides he’d taken since. He said, "The bike keeps me distracted. When I go fast the world flows. I pay attention to stay alive while riding. It's fun, but I feel like I'm betraying her and betraying everybody who knows me. I think they believe that I should never smile again."
I told him he looked good in his colors, but he said, “I don’t want to look good because people might think I’m okay. I'm not okay. I’m afraid to laugh because they might not understand my heart’s broken. I try to look my best, but all the color has gone out of my world. I cry. I don’t know who I am anymore, except I am still an idealist.”
Grief takes many forms and lasts a long time. Grief is in proportion to love. Express your grief your own way.
Let’s Pray: Dear God, You love those who mourn; let us love them, too and let us laugh and cry with them, as they need. Amen.
Here's a Thought: All will be well.
Source: Julian of Norwich, “all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” Chapter 27, Revelations of Divine Love. http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Julian_of_Norwich