Grief

When my mother died, I became aware that as I cried, I wasn't crying for her but for myself. Over the years, my religion has told me that death can only mean a better place for the one who dies, a happier place altogether. So when my mother died, and more recently, a good friend, I knew that I wasn't crying for her/him but for myself.

For when someone I love dies, I know I'll miss her/him: her/his smile, her/his kindness, her/his generosity, her/his gestures of love. Yes, there are memories which should sustain me but somehow, they feel inadequate.

There are so many things in life that are very difficult to fathom: suffering, death, illness. Why do they have to happen? For us to appreciate the resurrection that follows? I guess that's it. Again that's what our faith tells us and while I believe, it doesn't make it any easier.