I just found out today that Cassandra, the young daughter of a friend, recently died in a shooting incident. One moment she was driving to work; next thing she was collateral damage brought down by a bullet meant for somebody else.
When my husband passed on, my grief was physical. There was a undefinable constant sensation at the pit of my stomach that made me retch. I felt disembodied -- a zombie walking around.
Although I have not gone through the horrors (and heaven forbid) of losing one's own child, I nevertheless have an idea of the grieving and pain my friend is going through.
Still, one never really fully recovers from the passing of a loved one. There is a permanent wound in the heart that stops bleeding but never really heals.
"Cassandra is now home and someday you will see each other again.," I told my friend in a message. I wasn't really sure of how to comfort my friend, what to say, or if any of what I had told her were true. Nobody really knows but having faith works. It comforts. It gives hope. Because only love conquers death and endures forever.
On my friend's timeline on Facebook, I found the quote below. I thought it an apt description of my friend's strength as a mother who lost a baby she carried in her womb for months and then nurtured -- flesh of her flesh, blood of her blood.
Posted with Aloha
- By ARIEL MURPHY
True words. I'm sure they apply to men also.
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