In the early days, I clung immediately to the hope that you were still alive. I said it in my tribute at the funeral- “I will see you again, my love.” were my last words. And I meant it. Sincerely.
But it’s been tough, as you know. It’s been complicated. I have started to wonder now if denial was posing as the Christian hope of an afterlife. Because I could say that you were still alive and well. I could cling to it and look forward to a reunion with you.
But then it became harder. Then I realized how permanent our separation. The only life span, the only world I know…its entirety. Then I realized, that no- you are not alive and well- you are dead.
I must now deny denial this right to masquerade as hope or else I will not find the true hope. The verse I chose for your funeral was about grieving with hope- not without hope. But I’m having a hard time doing those together. For now, I think I need to take them just one at a time.
So now- I grieve.
Are you alive in some sense? In some way my mind cannot comprehend? I hope so.
Sarang hae Hae-wan.