Grief

I was watching E.T. today, and it struck me how there are scenes from movies that seem to exist for the sole purpose of capturing specific aspects of human emotion. I am of course referring to the closing scene of the movie when E.T. and Elliot are saying goodbye. E.T. gestures toward his heart, then his mouth and says, "ouch." Elliot follows suit, and anyone who has lived for any length of time knows exactly what they mean. That sense of heart-ache that knows no expression in words, yet is so poignantly caught in this simple expression.
I have had the opportunity to spend time with some families this last year as their loved ones stood at the doors of physical death, preparing to go on to eternal life. This sense of saying goodbye, not knowing quite when they would see each other again filled each moment. That feeling so succinctly put in the word, "ouch."
Parting with our loved ones hurts so much that sometimes we can find no adequate way of expressing the anguish of soul, the heart-gripping, throat clenching, chest constricting pain that invades and threatens to swallow us whole.
We know we cannot change what is, that they must go.
And we must stay.
But even as we know that our love for them will continue, it is that very love we fear the most.
We fear being unable to continue in life, so consumed by the love of one no longer by our side.
We face the urge to flee, leaving our hurt behind.
We fear our grief will rule our days and nights until every moment is caught in a swarm of pain.
We also fear that grief will fade, and with it our love, so we wrap it around our shoulders like a warm blanket, and immerse ourselves in its darkness.
But if we are to continue, we must let the light in once again. We must feel the pain of grief, but instead of clinging to its folds, we must let it go.
We must allow the tears to flow and wash over us like rain, cleansing both heart and face.
We dance our dance with grief, but when the song is done, we remember the dance, but we go on.
I have danced with grief. I have faced my fear. I have loved.
And I go on to love again, knowing that the promise is true: Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning. The joy is bittersweet, but love becomes richer when we know the risk we take.