Guest post by Ari.
Dark mornings…
I wake up early most mornings, still dark outside. Go downstairs for my coffee, and stand by the
window, mug in hand. The sky shows me stars, sometimes a moon. It is so quiet, and I try to see
the peace of the coming dawn. Some days it is easier than others. Lately the dark mornings
remind me of other vigils in the darkness. Nights when I couldn’t sleep after my boy died. I would
stand at the same window and cry, my tears blurring the loveliness of the evening stars. I paced
back and forth, asking the question we all do, “why?!” I wanted it to be a bad dream, that I
would see him walking down the street, coming home as he would have on other nights. I would
stand by that window until the sky brightened with the early morning sun. In those days the day
only brought more pain.
It has been six years without him. I stand by the same window, savoring my first cup of hot coffee
before getting ready for work. The darkness outside brings him closer, perhaps his spirit also
watches me. We remain connected in many ways, even after all this time.
I can now shake off the sadness that threatens to fill my heart as I keep my eyes towards the early
dawn. I still wish I could see him walking towards me, oh how I wish that! But instead I focus on
the beauty of the rising sun, the soft colors filling the sky, sending the darkness away for another
day. It is just so with this grief of ours. If only we can hold on, another day will dawn, the dark
will leave again. Of course it will return, many, many times. But each day that we survive we
grow stronger, more able to face that dark night again. We can let the colors of the sunrise fill our
heart as they fill the sky.
It does get easier.
Wishing you all a peaceful day.
