If it is possible to die of grief then why on earth can't someone be healed by happiness?
Will my eyes adjust to this darkness? Will I find you in the dark _ not in the streaks of light which remain, but in the darkness? Has anyone ever found you there? Did they love what they saw? Did they see love? And are there songs for singing when the light has gone dim? Or in the dark, is it best to wait in silence?Noon has darkened. As fast as they could say, __e__ dead,_ the light dimmed. And where are you in the darkness? I learned to spy you in the light. Here in this darkness, I cannot find you. If I had never looked for you, or looked but never found, I would not feel this pain of your absence. Or is not your absence in which I dwell, but your elusive troubling presence?It__ the neverness that is so painful. Never again to be here with us _ never to sit with us at the table_. All the rest of our lives we must live without him. Only our death can stop the pain of his death.
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Will my eyes adjust to this darkness? Will I find you in the dark _ not in the streaks of light which remain, but in the darkness? Has anyone ever found you there? Did they love what they saw? Did they see love? And are there songs for singing when the light has gone dim? Or in the dark, is it best to wait in silence?Noon has darkened. As fast as they could say, __e__ dead,_ the light dimmed. And where are you in the darkness? I learned to spy you in the light. Here in this darkness, I cannot find you. If I had never looked for you, or looked but never found, I would not feel this pain of your absence. Or is not your absence in which I dwell, but your elusive troubling presence?It__ the neverness that is so painful. Never again to be here with us _ never to sit with us at the table_. All the rest of our lives we must live without him. Only our death can stop the pain of his death.
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She needed to recover. His father had died in January; it was only the end of May. They needed to stick to the routine they'd established during the intervening months. in that way, their life would return to its original shape, like a spring stretched in bad times but contracting eventually into happiness. That the world could come permanently unsprung had never occurred to him.
Lament invoked love.Woe invoked wonder.Grief invoked grace.Cry invoked celebration.(Page 80)
Three years? That's a thousand tomorrows, ma'am.
There are all kinds of ways for a relationship to be tested, even broken, some, irrevocably; it__ the endings we__e unprepared for.
And I can't be running back and fourth forever between grief and high delight.