The one that hurts. Makes me a bit melancholy some years, a sobbing mess others and fiercely introspective others.
This year, I am melancholy. I woke up too early today. 440am. I hurried through the first few hours of the day before I realized what today is.
Ten years go by so fast.
I'm merely a shadow of who I was 10 years ago. The girl who got the call that her little brother had passed on handled it as best she could.
Gut wrenching sadness. Auto-pilot days and nights. Some things felt painfully harsh. The air was colder, the wind stronger. And other things dulled. Colors and sounds.
Today I am sad, but hopeful. Luke provides me with such a perspective. That kind of loss at that time in my life was profound. Life-shaping. World-shifting.
I would gladly trade those life lessons for my baby brother. He always saw the good in things. If he could find the good, surely it's in me to see the good, as well. And so I try, in everything, to find that silver lining however small. It's there, sometimes hidden under pain and loss and sadness and anger.
Look for it. Dig for it. It's worth the effort to find the good.
10 hours and 50 minutes. That's how long I made it through today until now. Without tears. Beautifully and painfully said. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteOn an already melancholy day, when I'm missing my mother more than I have in months, I stumble on this post. You know, in so many ways, I feel for that mature sorrow on an adolescent soul. It truly seems cruel to see what sin can make happen; I don't know what those without faith and Godly reason do. If only some people didn't have to be taken so very early.
ReplyDelete