A Flame of Love

A flame burns inside a parent. The flame ignites passions; career, hobbies, education, spirit, social activities. Love is the source of the fuel. Our children are our love. To lose a love, which can never be replaced, if not extinguishes the flame, surely dims it to a flicker.

Grief is a losing proposition. To grieve is to experience anguish. Anguish sounds like a powerful word. It has its roots in grief. Its at home with grief. Anguish is a hurt of the body, mind, and soul. Who could want grief and its evil friend?

The other hand holds more strife. Its the notion to stop grieving. To stop presents a fear of losing the child again. For example: As long as I grieve, I have what is left of my son; the pain. The closest thing to feeling him is the pain. The pain is real. The memories are visions. I want to hold my son, but if I can't feel his body I can at least feel the pain of loving him. Remembering him exactly as he was with all the good and all the not so good (as human as me), is pain. To not have the pain and agony, I have to not go where I have to go. I know for certain the answer to questions like: Would you run into a burning building to try to save your child? We grieve to be close to our child and fire could never hurt so much as anguish.

Passion for common life pleasures is not part of my life today. The flame burns less bright. Billy Graham on facing death: Let grief do its work. Tramp every inch of the sorrowful way. Drink every drop of the bitter cup.

Bitter it is. The size of the cup must be gigantic.