"I don't know what is the matter with me," I confided to Paula, the pastor's wife. "I am a person who can't get through a testimony without crying, and yet now, when I should be wallowing in grief, I have cried very little."
Each of my children and grandchildren have been dealing with their grief in there own way. Our son dealt with it in part while writing a wonderful eulogy:
The younger set seem to shake it off easier, though maybe not as easily as we think.
But for me, he was a part of me. We shared our life together for forty seven years. Every night of our marriage I told him that I loved him. I still do. So why am I not bawling my eyes out?
My biggest crying time is while I am in prayer, and maybe that is where the secret lies. I have been so overwhelmed with thankfulness these last few days.
Yes THANKFULNESS. I can't help thinking of how God gave us these extra last three years together, and how He answered Bruce's plea for me by giving me the coconut oil business to keep me going; and how I can know for certain that I will see Bruce again; and how he is now probably greeting those to whom he played a major role in directing to that Heavenly shore.
There is so much to be thankful for that when I start to pray I usually burst out into tears of gratitude.
But I am just beginning to realize that, while I am crying those tears of thanksgiving, the grief is seeping out as well.
For the next post see: So much for letting the grief seep
For the previous post see: Walking the path without him