Some reflections on grief……

Fr Sean used these descriptions of grief from author Edgar Jackson in his holily at our annual Mass of Commemoration for those who have died in the past year on November 18th 2016:

Grief is a young widow trying to raise her three children, alone.

Grief is the man so filled with shocked uncertainty and confusion that he strikes out at the nearest person.

Grief is a mother walking daily to a nearby cemetery to stand quietly and alone a few minutes before going about the tasks of the day. She knows that part of her is in the cemetery, just as part of her is in her daily work.

Grief is the silent, knife-like terror and sadness that comes a hundred times a day, when you start to speak to someone who is no longer there.

Grief is the emptiness that comes when you eat alone after eating with another for many years.

Grief is teaching yourself to go to bed without saying good night to the one who had died.

Grief is the helpless wishing that things were different when you know they are not and never will be again.

I also found this thought while I was seaching for an image to accompany this post:

There is no expiry date on grief.

King of the Jews

crucifixionBlood flows like a river from your side,
Your human body was always too weak.
Yet the pain that it’s causing is agonizingly real,
Another wave every time that you speak.

Yet you do nothing.

Thorns pierce through the skin on your head,
All you hear is their mockery and threats.
Your eyelids are drooping, your head hung low,
Yet still you have no regrets.

So you do nothing.

Your arms are now aching, worse than before,
And your vision is blurred by your tears.
But you know that this suffering will come to an end,
So you cast away your worries and fears.

And you do nothing.

Below you they’re hooked by the numbers on a dice,
Gambling away your pride.
You’re left on top of a hill – entertainment for all,
And there’s nowhere to run to and hide.

Still you do nothing.

The seconds become minutes, which drag into hours,
And you long for an end to your pain.
But there’s no one to help you, no one at all,
So in the open you must remain.

You do nothing.

Your name is Jesus, King ofthe Jews,
Saviour of those who failed to save you.
And so you die, on a cross made of hate,
To be with God and unlock heaven’s gates.

By Mia Griso Dryer
April 2015