"To every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." It's not just about physics. It's about love and loss. (Gah. I said it again. I didn't lose my husband. He died. If I lost him, I'd eventually find him. In the last place I look. With earrings that's usually in my bra or shoe. Doubt I'll find him there. But, just in case, I did check. Nope. He's not there.)
You get to a point in grief, when you start to wonder why it hurts so much.
Is it because of his long slow torturous cancer? Is it because he was so young?
Is it because prostate cancer is supposed to be a "good" kind of cancer to get?
Is it all the things we didn't get to experience together? Grandkids? Another graduation? Weddings? Sunrises. Sunsets. Vacations? Morning breath and coffee kisses?
The things I did wrong?
The things he did wrong?
But after all the reflection and introspection is done, I think it comes down to the physics of loss. Loss is an equal and opposite reaction. To love.
I loved him as much as it hurts to lose him. (Yes. I said it again. Whatever. It's a sliver of denial. A bit of sugar to make the medicine go down. Loss is just plain is easier to say than death.)
After a loss, of whatever kind- (there are lots.) some people respond with hardening. It's an option. And a temptation.
"I'll never love so much that it hurts this much again." The bummer is- you may avoid the pain of loss, but you equally avoid the joy of love.
I know this: love is worth the pain.
I choose love.
When the pain is overwhelming, I keep reminding myself that it is simply the reaction to the action of the loss of our great love.
And then I realize the love lives on. In the pain. In the memories. And yes… in the joy.
Scripture says joy comes in the morning. In loss- and it's subsequent pain, I believe it's also true that joy comes in the mourning. Feeling the loss brings us back to the joy of love.
Scripture also says that those who plant tears will reap a harvest of joy.
I'm planting my tears. Letting them fall and soften the earth of my heart- readying it for more love.
Of another man? Not likely. But other people? Absolutely.
Love is the greatest of these. Always.