Grief. Who hasn’t felt it. It is human. It is painful. It burns us. It’s a dagger stabbing our hearts. It is the thorn in the side of humanity. We all experienced it one way or another. I know saying that doesn’t make it any easier, but it’s true. We all experience it and grief can last a long time.
Many things help to cope with it. Therapy, support groups, hobbies, you name it. Such things can help with this. However, what if there was a sign that gave us closure that things will be alright?
It was on Easter Sunday. I spent that morning walking around the streets of Society Hill. Usually, this holiday would be filled with joy. But this year was different. My mother passed away earlier that month from stage 4 ovarian cancer. She had it for four years, and kept being strong. She was active, continued to be there for her family. To say that losing her was a tragedy would be an understatement.
As I walked, I came across a historic church that dated back to the colonial era. As I was a lover of history, I decided to stroll through its courtyard. There, I walked through the graveyard connected with the church. I thought about those buried there. Many of them were young, fought in the revolution. How did their families cope with their loss? How long did that grief linger? I could only imagine. I guess I know how they feel.
After walking around the graveyard, I sat down on a bench near the church. Still thinking, still grieving. Then, I heard something. It was faint, like a choir. Music that included words of hope and love. I looked around and noticed that the window from the church was open. It was most likely that the church choir was practicing for Easter Mass.
But hearing this music made me feel a sense of comfort. It was as if my mother was speaking to me this way. She knew that things will be hard, but that she will always be here with me, be there for my family. I also thought about what Easter was about, in which we were in grief and now in joy. This gave me a grand feeling of warmth.
Warmth. That’s what is was. The warmth of knowing that, although things are going to be rough, they will be alright in the end. Grief is a complex creature, there is no right answer about it. However, that warmth gave me some reassurance. It’s funny how signs are there to help you see this.
