Death and loving mortals

I do hope that the “loves” of my life do not read this entry. Funny thing is, I do not think that anyone reads this. Anyway, if you are one of the Gray boys… you may just want to stop reading :)

September of 2004, I lost a man who was so close to me. I did not realize how much he had changed my life, or how much I cared until he was gone. Life changed for his family in more drastic ways than it did for me, I know that I am on the outside of the family, but I did enjoy my time as his daughter. I have no words to express how I felt at that time, and no words to express how I feel now. All I know is going to his house, seeing his wife with another, watching his son put a heartless wretch before the family… all these things are like someone stabbing me in the chest. I see things the way he wanted it, so if things are not so, I get very angry. However, my feelings on the matter don’t matter. All that is left is my devotion to a family name that will soon leave me behind…

Here is the funny thing; here is what reminded me of my missing life:

“What pain darkened my heart! (Lam. 5.17). All that I saw was death. My hometown was torment to me, my home strangely cursed; all the things I had shared with him were, without him, transformed into grievous tortures. My eyes looked expectantly for him everywhere, but he was denied to their sight. I hated everything, because it did not contain him; could when he had been absent during his life. I became the object of my own investigation, and asked my soul repeatedly why it was sorrowful, and why did it trouble me so deeply; and it did not know what to say in return. And if I said, Hope in God (Ps. 42.5, II, Ps. 43.5 [Ps. 41.6, 12, Ps. 42.5]), It would not obey, and rightly; for the friend I had lost was, though a man, a thing more real and better than the illusion in witch I bade my soul trust. Weeping alone was sweet to me, and took the place of my friend among the pleasures of my mind.” (4.4.9)

This and almost a year, the wounds are healing. Good news.

“Time is not empty, nor does it wash over our senses without effect; it works wonders on the mind. For day to day it came and went, and coming and going engrafted other hopes and other memories within me. Little by little it restored me to my former kinds of pleasure, and my grief gave way before them. But in its place came not fresh griefs, but the seeds of them For why had my former grief been able to pierce me so easily and so deeply, if not because I had, as the saying goes, ‘ split my soul on the sand’ by loving a mortal as if he were immortal? What refreshed and renewed me most of all was the solace I derived from other friends, who shared my love for the thing I loved instead of you…” (4.8.13)