
Emotions run raw and painful
just below the surface of my skin:
now prickling with intensity, now barely perceptible…
yet always lurking,
rearing their head in unexpected moments
like a sudden gust of wind,
a thorn pricking my flesh,
glass shattering on the hard ground.
Breaking the silence,
they beg to be released.
Yet distraction is what I have continued to choose:
anything to prevent me
from quieting my mind,
as if avoiding thoughts of you
will somehow spare me
from finally having to say goodbye.
But today I feel beckoned
to summon my courage
and wander
into fields of reflection;
to allow my heart to break
as I embrace the reality
that I will never see you again
this side of heaven.

I can still hear your whispered, “I love you,”
the phone held to your lips
just hours before you left us.
My mind replays
our last hurried embrace,
that sparkle in your eye,
your tender smile,
despite your own pain and suffering.
Always hopeful,
ready to encourage,
looking beyond yourself.
This was your greatest gift to me
(though you gave
so many,
so freely;
could I ever count them all?)
It is that part of you
that will always live on in me;
a sweet reflection
of God’s own heart:
as Father and Mother,
nurturing,
building up,
speaking life.

And now,
at last
as I linger here
in these fields of reflection,
I understand
that yes –
it is a place of weeping,
of releasing.
But it is also a space
for gathering and cherishing,
celebrating,
and being thankful;
for drinking deeply
from the cup that you poured for me
over and over again
throughout my life.
So goodbye for now,
and may we meet again soon
in fields of reflection.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
Psalm 147:3