April 9, 2017
My minister asked me to speak about the healing power of love at our worship services this past Sunday, and this is what I said:
Not quite seven years ago, my husband Bill died of cancer. He was one month and one day short of his 68th birthday. We celebrated our 45th wedding anniversary six weeks before his death. Bill died at home in our bedroom, peacefully with his family around him. We were able to give him the kind of death he wanted.
When such a deep loss happens to you, you feel as though someone has handed you this enormous boulder to carry, a rough and heavy boulder of grief. You stagger at first as you try to carry it, and you try not to fall down with it in public, but in private you simply collapse and sit beside that boulder and weep.
But after a time you learn how to carry the boulder without collapsing so frequently. And after an even longer time the boulder seems not as large and not as heavy, or perhaps you have grown stronger and learned how to carry it more easily. And the surface is no longer as rough, perhaps smoothed by time or by your tears, and the boulder has become easier to grip.
And once your boulder of grief does not overwhelm you, you lift your head up and you look around.
You look at all the people with such tenderness and new awareness.
And you see clearly the boulders so many are carrying. You knew on an intellectual level before, that they were burdened by grief and sorrow, but now you see their grief with your heart.
The friends who lost their son in a terrible accident.
Your colleague who struggles with depression, and the other colleague whose mother has been diagnosed with early Alzheimer’s.
Your friend whose husband collapsed while running and died of a heart attack.
The couple who are coming to terms with the fact that they will never conceive a child.
And for those whose stories you do not know, but you can imagine. No one is spared from grief.
Your own heart has been softened by grief, and your sense of compassion has expanded. You will never be the same.
And perhaps after a very long time, your boulder will shrink in size until it is a rock small enough to fit into your pocket, a warm smooth rock that is a talisman of the love that will never leave you and that has opened your heart to all those around you.
May it be so.
Thank you, Kristen. I hoped you would post this.
A friend just asked another whether one ever gets over the loss. I think your essay is the perfect answer.
Dearest Sister,
What beautiful words of comfort!