A reminder was hand-delivered that morning on my patio that my first marriage to Kim—regardless of how wonderful—was not the answer to my ultimate delight. My second marriage to Amanda—regardless of how wonderful—is not to be the answer to my ultimate delight.
If you do not understand this faith lesson, you will be forever distracted by the here-and-now. What we see—even these seemingly permanent places—is temporal.
Selling a house is so final. It brings a chapter or a period to an emphatic close. Painful. Even if you know you’re starting a new chapter, it’s a significant step.
One of the key benefits of joining a GriefShare group is the instant sense that you are understood and validated. You escape the busy and chaotic world for an hour or so and dive into a grief subculture long enough to talk to other like-minded people. It’s healing. It’s validating. It’s permission to mourn. But to mourn well.
His reply was quick and to the point. “She doesn’t need to have been through deep waters,” he said, “but she needs to be able to swim.” I looked at Joe in the same way a zealous student fixes his eyes on a favorite, wise, valued, and respected teacher. Profound.
Eventually, your mental hard drive is overwritten, and your new normal is firmly ensconced in your mind. No more denial. Eventually, your thoughts increasingly turn toward moving forward.