It’s funny how people keep telling me they felt your presence last night throughout the concert- in the music, the stories, the words spoken.
All I felt
was your absence.
For any other list-makers out there, I published this on HerStories yesterday.""In this time of quarantine, my lists are offering me space outside of the walls of my home, a way of making sense of chaos, a self-imposed structure on structure-less days, and even a way...
"In our deepest self we keep living with the illusion that we will always be the same." Henri Nowen "It's really very simple," my late spiritual director, Gladys, once said to me. She was talking about how she lived each day, waking up, having a written conversation...
"Anxiety turns us toward courage, because the other alternative is despair." Paul Tillich I've claimed "seasonal affective disorder" for years, and that may be so, but I'm starting to realize it's not only summer to fall that is hard for me. It's winter to spring, and...
CS Lewis, A Grief Observed:
… What pitiable cant to say,'She will live forever in my memory!' Live? That is exactly what she won't do. You might as well think like the old Egyptians that you can keep the dead by embalming them. … What's left? A corpse, a memory, and (in some versions) a ghost. All mockeries or horrors. Three more ways of spelling the word dead. It was H. I loved. As if I wanted to fall in love with my memory of her, an image in my own mind!
Oops, meant to post a link to more of the above excerpt:
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/questionofgod/ownwords/grief.html
I can't recall if you told me you'd read this book or not. It is honest and searing; Lewis wrestles with the angel of death, wrestles with God, wrestles with his faith or no-faith. He minces no words in delineating his grief and the process he, a new widower, must endure; the cosmic questions that erupt from him are blunt and sometimes angry. Often your writing in this blog reminds me of his. (That is a compliment.)
Peace be with you. My thoughts and prayers continue.