Conversations are generally two-way, but there’s the kind of conversation that can only be one-way. It’s usually the kind of conversation uttered to the ether in faith that those words would be heard.
I’ve a particular person in mind who I know won’t be around forever. You know who they are: your father, your mother, your sick relative, or friend. We cannot picture what it will be like to be without them. We can’t plan that far ahead.
Like the baby born to a new home. All plans are made, but the reality of that baby will shatter many of those plans, bringing home the truth of the proverb, “Plans belong to a human, but the answer comes from the mouth of the Lord.”
In terms of the reality of what we’ll think, say, or do when a loved one is no longer here likewise, we may not even ponder it. We lose sight of the irrevocable reality.
So, what would I say to that dear one—anyone close who I would grieve bitterly—when I’d already lost them?
“I’m so sorry that I didn’t get to say................................ but let me say it anyway.”
“I’m so sorry we didn’t get to do........ together. We would have loved doing this together. But let me do this with you in my mind right now.”
“I wish I could look into your face just one more time, to feel you physically with me, but I’m thankful for your image in my mind, and I will preserve it.”
“To hold you or hold your hand or chat or just shoot the breeze... be with me now in spirit.”
“To just be silent with you... to experience you smiling... to know you’re smiling, though, brings me peace.”
“I miss your presence so much!”
“Oh, how glorious is it up there? I imagine you saying, ‘More incredible than you can imagine’. But still, I just miss you.”
“There are a thousand ways that life’s different because you’re no longer here.”
“I never realised how final the concept of ‘different’ is in the grief of loss—I hate it but there is a modicum of comfort for me knowing you’re at peace.”
“I wish we could see you enjoying us. I wish we could see your pleasure...”
“... but by faith I must hold to the idea that you watch on more immensely content at what you can see now than ever.”
“We love you so much that experiencing the little and large moments in life without you breeds pain.”
“Would you be in my tears? Thank you that you’re part of the healing of my soul, that the pain of grief will morph into the reality that life will always be different without you.”
“I know you want me to live all my life here, and be as present for everyone as I can, but there is consolation that I will see you again.”
“In this moment, when NOBODY knows just how much I want to break down and cry right now, I cannot bear that you’re not here.”
Maybe it’s just one step closer to making the inevitable easier—to loan a vision from the future to do the present differently so there are fewer regrets when life is different and will never be the same again.
Do now what cannot be done at a time that will arrive before you know it.
Photo by Ben Blennerhassett on Unsplash
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