When they tell you “it’s ok”, tell them “it’s not”.
When they tell you he’s in a better place, tell them “but I’m not”.
When they tell you they will be there for you, tell them “but not as often as he was”.
When they tell you “life should go on”, tell them “yes, but not yet”.
Mourn. Life owes you that.
Cry. God gave us tears for that.
Be angry. God Himself gave us that emotion.
Don’t be guilty when you grieve. You don’t need to snap out of it right away. Linger in the pain for awhile. Reminisce. Recall. Remember.
You don’t abbreviate the night. Let it run its course. You don’t hasten the dawn. It will eventually come.
But when it does. Be sure to rise with the sun. Push back those shoulders and move on. Don’t let your anger ripen to hatred. Don’t let your pain ripen to despair. Don’t let your memories trap you but instead inspire you.
To live. To love. To dream again.
Embrace the morning after the mourning, my friend.
For when the tears are dry, you know the uncompromising truth deep down in your Christian heart — that the one you love is truly in a much, much better place. And perhaps, just perhaps, he would not have it any other way.
The Book of Wisdom has this to say:
“In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died, and their departure was thought to be an affliction, and their going from us to be their destruction; but they are at peace.” (Wisdom 3:2-3)
So come. Awake. Live on.
The dawn is almost here.