Joy comes in the morning. I sweet phrase but it sounds trite and cheeky when you are in the middle of grieving over the death of a loved one. One of my Facebook posts from May 24, 2012:
“It is said that after a loved one dies there are stories to be shared. But I have yet to want to share a memory or story of Ron because I don’t want to tell stories of things done yesterday. I don’t want to remember the dance or the song of times gone by…I want to know my brother is in the room without turning around and feel the warmth of his gentle smile. Perhaps then I would have a story to tell as I watch him squirm but until such a time, I will miss his humor and laugh. Why do I have such a problem telling stories? A story is a mask worn by an emotion that no longer exists. It is a last ditch effort to recapture a moment in time. A story hides a secret and the discovery of that secret is where the danger in telling the story hides.”
Things have changed a little bit and I recognize that some of the platitudes people tried to comfort grieving people with have elements of truth in them. It is my guess that morning has come because, I smile when I remember my brother. I occasionally laugh out loud for no reason other than a passing thought or a private joke that passed between siblings. I don’t tell a lot of stories about Ron because there is still hurt that hovers on the perimeter of every memory of my elusive brother. The Whys that can never be answered. I have learned to feel the hurt, and forgive. This has helped me move into the present moment instead of lingering in the past. I have come to recognize that today is the only thing we really have and I intend to live today to its fullest. Joy does indeed come, Carpe Diem!