On a certain uneventful Wednesday
A friend received a call:
Her dear old grandpa lost to the heavens
Left his three angels behind in dust
I could offer no comfort
Except for words of assurance I found befitting
That I stand unwavering by her;
As their listener and support.
And on a certain uneventful Wednesday
I met the same fate
And she too, offered seemingly comforting
Empty holes of promises.
But my head still ached;
My mind still ran
And her intentions heard
But never felt.
Though there is always death with life,
It strikes like lightning — so sudden and harsh
That bystanders can only watch with hands stretched
Doing nothing than cheering us on.
I ache for you and your family for the loss of your loved one. ” Are you okay? ” seemed a bit redundant, so I could only hope to provide my condolences by offering my services to share your burdens. I’m sorry I could help in no other areas than that.
” He always thought that Touie’s long illness would somehow prepare him for her death. He always imagined that grief and guilt, if they followed, would be more clear-edged, more defined, more finite. Instead they seem like weather, like clouds constantly re-forming into new shapes, blown by nameless, unidentifiable winds. ” – Arthur & George, Julian Barnes
I pray for them peace in knowing that their grandpa has gone to a better place, and some strength to tide over this period of grief.