As the day
started we had no idea why,
Why this
would be the day that a dear friend would die,
Instead we
strode out full of intent,
With the purpose of life and not prepared
to relent.
Looking
back a few days, those that have now gone past,
Days with
which we have lowered our mast,
We
scarcely believe he was taken from us,
So suddenly he went with hardly a
fuss.
Here we
are though left to pick up the pieces,
Whilst all
about him is now more about releases,
So many
contemplations and so many thoughts,
So many permeations of so many
sorts.
Horrible
to think if only we knew,
That our
dear friend’s life was all but due,
How do we
dare to comprehend?
When this is about a Life that can
apprehend.
As it is
now the family is scattered,
Because of
what we know now nothing else mattered,
Air
flights here and air flights there,
All because this family cannot but
care.
But this
story is about loss—a dear life taken,
Without
him around we may be sorely mistaken,
Bitterest
loss is now the family’s contempt,
Sorrow upon sorrow—nothing else
can they attempt.
Perhaps we’re
not so close but our thoughts do extend,
We do so
dearly wish we could now simply mend,
A
situation like this is a calamitous disaster,
How is our sympathy to help the
grieving master?
Just like
everything we have cause to accept,
The
mystery about life that leaves us bereft,
The
meaning of the emotions we cannot construe,
No wonder we feel comprehensively
blue.
***
We can wonder how we are meant to
go on after the passing of a dearest one. If it’s someone not so close we may
feel awkwardly distant and guilty that we don’t feel more sorrow. Death affects
us all who are left remaining.
The happening of someone’s death
transforms priorities and perspectives. We regain a grasp over the preciousness
of life. We understand, as much as we are able to understand, how fragile and
futile life seems to be. Not that we take it for granted; never more do we
appreciate the necessity of making the most of our lives.
It does us no good to ponder the state
and situation of the dead, unless to imagine them somehow at peace. They came
into the world and lived their lives the best they could with what they had.
And whatever the life, in the vast majority of cases, we celebrate.
Long live their memory, in the
pleasantest of ways, in devotion to God.
© 2012 S. J. Wickham.
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