Mourning is an interesting thing. It's difficult to know if you're doing it right because it's something so unique to everyone. This is a lesson my granny is learning. "What's the hardest part about grampy being gone?" I asked her. "Everything being so unexpected. I never know when a fit of tears will come; if I'll be in the grocery store or if I'll see his signature somewhere and the tears will come. I hate that."
That song-lyric turned cliché phrase is true, you don't know what you've got till it's gone. It's so easy to take for granted the little things. After having a companion for 36 years and then losing them even the little things in life are strange and absurd even. Granny and I were in the grocery store yesterday and she was getting some bacon for breakfast this morning. She stood there over the bacon and said, "Now I have to find bacon that's lean. That was always Bob's job."
How do you start living alone when you've leaned on someone for so long? when your hearts have been knitted together so tightly, when your thoughts and movements run parallel for what you thought would be for much longer. It's hard for her to see these old couples with their walkers taking evening strolls together, and now here she is a 74 year old widow.
James 1:26-27 carries new meaning for me now: Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.
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