One week from today will be the 1st anniversary of Emily's death. It will be a hard day, but we're getting out of town for the weekend to be together as a family.
We're doing pretty well. I'm thankful that God has helped our family and that we are carrying on. I don't know how next weekend will be, but if Emily's birthday and the first Christmas without her are any indication, I think we'll be okay.
I was reading C.S. Lewis' An Experiment in Criticism last week and I came across a quote that arrested me. He was talking about the difference between real grief and the kind that you meet in a literary tragedy. He wrote, "Sometimes it remains for life, a puddle in the mind which grows always wider, shallower, and more unwholesome" (p. 78 in the Cantos edition).
I don't want that to happen, I don't think it's happening, but the very fact that this sentence leapt off the page at me warns me that it could very easily happen. At the very least, isn't this a picturesque way of putting the lingering bitterness that can remain after a loss?
I don't want to wallow in it, but the grief is still very real. However, God's goodness and grace shines ever brighter and I am thankful for the sure hope we have in our Saviour Jesus Christ.
Juanita found a poem about September that is, as she put it, bittersweet. We're enjoying a beautiful autumn, but there is a difficult anniversary to remember.
