When my mom died, it was (as my dad pointed out recently) like a bomb shell going off in the middle of my life. I missed her (still miss her), and my life--heck, the world in general--wasn't the same. A year and a half later, I still think this cannot possibly be my life ... this isn't how it was supposed to be. My mom is supposed to BE HERE. But she's not. The world marched on, but not mine. My world was in tiny pieces. I'm still picking up the pieces.
So, this is for a friend who is experiencing something similar. I love you, dear friend.
"These days of dust which we've known will blow away with this new sun." I don't think the pain ever really goes away...but each day is a new day. Each sunrise is painful now ... just a reminder of another day without the loved one you're missing. But eventually ... yes, sunrises bring hope again. Hang on until then.
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