A broken-hearted mourner asked me.
"All the rest of your Life,"
I have to answer truthfully.
We never quite forget.
No matter how many years pass, we remember.
The loss of a loved one is like a major operation.
Part of us is removed, and we have a scar
For the rest of our lives.
As years go by, we manage.
There are things to do, people to care for,
Tasks that call for full attention.
But the pain is still there, not far below the surface.
We see a face that looks familiar,
Hear a voice that echoes,
See a photograph in someone's album,
See a landscape that once we saw together,
And it seems as though
A knife were in the wound again.
But not so painfully,
And mixed with joy, too,
Because remembering a happy time is not all sorrow;
It brings back some happiness with it, too.
How long will the pain last?
"All the rest of your life."
But the thing to remember
Is that not only will the pain last,
But the blessed memories as well.
Tears are proof of life;
The more love, the more tears.
If this be true, then how could we ever ask
That the pain cease altogether?
For then the memory of love would go with it.
The pain of grief is the price we pay for love.