"In truths that she learned
Or in times that he cried
In bridges he burned
Or the way that she died"
How about love?
A year ago today a piece of our hearts died. Avery's all too brief time here with us ended and we were left with a hole where she had been. But the love remained. It sharpened the pain we felt at her loss. The level of our heartache was in direct correlation to the strength of our love for her. We wailed and raged. We sobbed until our breathe left us. We buried our daughter and mourned the life that had been taken. We cursed God and Fate and THAT WOMAN who left her alone. We asked "Why us?" and "What now?" and "How will we go on?"
How about love?
Our friends and family were there; strangers were there. You all lent us strength and gave us your love to shore us up before we could fall. You cooked us meals and gave us money or a shoulder or time or the space we needed. You let us know that you were there for whatever or whenever we might need you. Never in my life have I felt that much love and caring. It was and is amazing. Your love for us was a lifeline that we clung to at times and kept those waves of grief from overcoming us. Despite all of that though we still felt alone. Except we had each other.
Measure in love.
This week my friend reminded me that true strength is revealed by adversity. This ordeal tested our strength, not just as individuals, but as a couple. What we found was a strength of love and caring for each other that we had hitherto only theorized about. "How much do you love me?" "Bucketfuls." An arbitrary answer for a question previously unanswerable. "How much do you love me?" I love you so much that in the darkest moments of my life, when everything feels pointless, it's you I'll cling to and cry on and eventually dry my eyes so that you can cry on me. When I wear my polite but sad mask for the world, you'll know how underneath I can't stop crying, because I've shown you and shared with you everything already. And when I can't seem to open my heart to you any further, we'll come together in the dark and love just a little more.
Seasons of love.
The poet in me can't help but notice that Avery was born in the Spring, lived through the Summer, and passed as the rest of the world around us was dying too. Our house was cold and grey this Winter for more than the season. Now, though, we have Wesley. This new Prince of Summer, Son of Sun, was born in June and has reminded us how to be happy in love. What a blessing he is. What a blessing she was. Today we'll take him out to see his sister's grave for the first time. His parents will be emotional wrecks, but as we sit there in the heat so reminiscent of the Summer of her life, we'll try to remember that it's been a long year full of love.
Seasons of love.
