All done, just begun

The obligations are fulfilled, the services finished, the hours of public mourning are over. Now we begin the real process of grieving, the days of sadness, the thousands of moments when we think to ask Dad, tell Dad, talk to Dad before our brains finally remember he's gone.

When Mom died, I thought I would die from my pain. For months and months I cried a seemingly endless flow of tears that I thought would tear apart my insides. I thought I might go crazy from the constant wringing out of my heart. But I didn't die. In fact, I actually healed. My daily thoughts missed her a little less each month, I found I could think of her without crying, and even though that hole will never be filled by anyone else, God has filled my life with the lessons of his love and comfort.


I go into this process of saying goodbye to Dad with the assurance of God's healing, the assurance that this pain is temporary. This time, I know those things are true - I know that real healing is possible, and that it just takes time. I know that I won't die, and that this terrible pain will pass with time.

That, I think, will make all the difference.