I hope that inching my way back into writing will help me deal with the pain.
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We miss the little things, the familiar, ordinary routine: the meals, the phone calls, the sitting and sharing... and each time it seems as though the one we love is dying in us again and again. And so they are.. but like a seed, each memory falls into the dark soil of our sorrow and we must give it time to rest there until, in its own good time, with the gentle tending of our God, it will push its way up into the light and brighten our world.
Jesus answered them, 'The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. I tell you, unless the grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies , it bears much fruit..' - John 12:24
What helps sustain me for now is hearing stories about him from his friends and family - in a way its their memories that help more than my memories of him. I look forward to the day when I can go through my fondest memories of jP without feeling overwhelmed by the pain.
I've realized that its a process that I have to go through - one that I can't and shouldn't control. And as much as I don't enjoy dishing out cliches: time will heal my wounds.
As the book's introduction aptly says:
There is no logical progression in what follows - no straight line from sorrow to joy, from darkness to light, from brokenness to healing, from tears to smiles - because grieving is not like that. It is not a matter of the head but a matter of the heart. And the heart has its own beat, which may be regular and calm today, and tomorrow be pulsing wildly with pain. Grieving is a universal experience, yet it is also intensely personal, with its own rhythm which is different to each one of us.
