Hovering above the clouds as we travel to Florida for our bittersweet journey, I am reminded of how small our perception of life really is.
The expanse of the sky is enough to remind me that this life is a vapor. We come, we live, we leave our imprint , and then as we leave this life, we become transformed into a life that is Perfection, never ceasing, full of beauty, Eternal.
But within the confines of this life, it is hard to wrap our heads and hearts around the Eternal.
When life and love leave us, and journey into Perfection, it’s not that we would ever dream of asking them to travel back to imperfection; but our finite hearts cry out for that love that filled a place of perfect beauty in our imperfect world.
We ache. We long. We suffer because of the ability we each have to leave a mark of love on those we touch. When we who remain have been touched by the love of another, we grieve. Grief is love lost. Grief is a hole that the love of another used to fill. Grief is deep when love is great.
Maybe I’m just weak, but even my strong belief in an Eternal reality does very little to ease my pain. “He’s in a better place” doesn’t change the fact that he’s not with me. “He’s perfect and complete” does nothing to alleviate the agony in my heart that I wasn’t the one to see him take his first steps, graduate from high school, ride a bike, climb a tree, get a job, kiss a girl.
And so it is.
And so I grieve.
And I kind of assume that until I one day enter Perfection, I will never understand why.