I went to the mall last night after dinner and watched people. Couples holding hands. Young families entertaining little ones, trying to tire them out before bed. Singles on solitary shopping excursions, perhaps assuaging their own pangs of loneliness on “International Couples Day”. I totally indulged myself with some chocolate. I didn’t feel bad. I’m not alone. I’m never alone. I do sometimes get lonely, but I wasn’t last night. Alone or lonely. It’s a matter of vernacular.
The same is true for grief and mourning. Grief is a matter of singularity. It is the path you alone walk in your journey. It is the price of love. Great love incurs great grief when the beloved is gone. Mourning, however, is a matter of the collective hearts of those who lose a person in common. It is shared. It is an act of social responsibility to mourn the loss of those important to you. You attend funerals of those you mourn to show respect, to share the pain you feel with others who are also feeling the loss to whatever degree it strikes them personally.
I am heading to Cincinnati today to attend Anna’s funeral. As we discussed last week, Anna and I graduated from high school together. We knew each other but weren’t friends, per se. My friendship with Anna developed after we realized we shared a birthday. We became closer over discussing her mother-in-law breaking her hip, the birth of her beautiful grandchildren, and her fear that no one would know her if she showed up 45 years late to a class reunion. I think she was pleasantly surprised that she was welcomed with open arms and indeed, we did miss her and remember her. She vowed she and her husband would return for the 50th and now, that won’t happen.
Why am I traveling four hours to the funeral of someone I only really “knew” through a few Facebook exchanges and the common bond of graduating from the same class? Because. Because, it’s what you do. This one hit home, even though I hadn’t seen Anna for 45 years. Our collective hearts are broken and we mourn together as a group. It is the only thing I can do…actively do…to show her children that their mother’s life meant something to me. It would be easy to do nothing and stay home. I’m done with taking the easy way out. Today, I bring my heart to Cincinnati in hopes of offering comfort. ❤️
“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”
Psalm 73:26 NIV
Prayers for you as you grieve for your friend. Please keep my family covered in prayer,also,as we lay my sweet sister to rest today.
Oh Janet…I’m so sorry for your loss. Prayers for all of us.
How beautifully sad ( and appropriately so) is your post today. Grieving is what we do as humans. Either alone or with a group. We mark the passage of a loved on; a friend. God be with you as you travel gather with friends to mark Anna’s passing.
Thank you, Pam.
How sweet and thoughtful it is of you to make this trip to offer comfort. I suspect that you, too, will receive comfort for this loss of a friend. And it doesn’t matter whether a friend is a 45 year relationship or a 2 month relationship. What matters is the bond that was formed which is now broken and how sad it makes us feel. Sending prayers for safe travels and healing from this loss.
Thank you, Jane.
Safe travels today.
Thank you, Pauline.
Yes, that’s what we do. That’s in a lot of situations the most/all we can do. It does mean a lot more than we think when we are on the receiving end. Love you, Ginny, and your heart. ❤️