Yesterday night, I watched the precious tears of my wife stream down her face.
My heart broke. This grief still clings to us. There's no words of comfort that soothes our soul.
Heartbroken is what best describes me presently.
There are good days and bad days. Neither Michele nor I are very much focused, motivated or excited about anything.
I think heartbroken is in the place of sadness where you just drop to your knees and you experience a dream, or the essence of joy melt through your fingers.
It's like a master potter working on this artwork - it's an intimate experience of skill, love, and joy in the marriage of your hands only to have a surreal moment where the pottery suddenly becomes liquid before your eyes. Then the pottery melts into a mist. You feel it slip through your hands with a mixture of emotions ranging from disbelief, bewilderment and sorrow.
Granted I know my experience is not unique, I know many suffer more, but it's madness to rate a person's grief. I'm loving Michele, I have goals, but there's a cloud over me. I thank the Lord for what we have, but my heart is empty. Yet, I know deep in the recess of my soul my eyes must look up - for I know the experience of grief can blur vision, and dampen the heart.
I think the deep question is: where do you find joy in your sorrow?