Embracing the Sadness

photo credit

Now that I am out of the tunnel of grief, I can begin to look back on my journey and share some of the things that meant so much to me during the cold winter of my past months.

There were many things happening in my external world, and that was a blessing in disguise. Those of you who have been following my blog for some time now know what I am talking about.

But in the quiet in-between moments, when I could be alone with my thoughts and my feelings, when I was missing my husband the most... I found it very helpful to embrace the sadness and not try to run away from it.

I would sometimes see myself dancing...ever so gracefully, even if in reality I don't dance. Just thinking of my season of grief as a dance brought a measure of healing and comfort to my heart.

Watch this lovely video of Polina Semionova and you will know what I mean.

(Note: So sorry the original video has been taken down, but the more recent one above is very similar to the one I originally embedded.)

My dad used to play Handel's Largo and Schumann's Traumerie on the piano when I was a little girl. Some evenings, after dinner, he would sit at the piano and play quietly. I remember watching the expression on his face - so serene, so peaceful. This music created such a beautiful environment for my growing up years.

Listening to classical music also helped, especially so because not only my dad, but also my husband, loved classical music.

One of my favorites is Handel's Largo. (Click on video and continue reading...)

It felt good to embrace the sadness without going into self-pity, or feeling sucked into the darkness. Sometimes the grief would surface only for a moment, and just as quickly go away!

During such moments, I would just pause... welcome the feelings, never resist them. I acknowledged that they were there... I did not struggle, nor wished I were out of that long road.

The grieving process did not become a burden or a struggle for me.

Of course, no one can tell us how we should grieve. In my case there were no classes that I could attend to help me.

Besides, most of the time life was going on for me, just as it was for the rest of my family, my friends, and the world.

Life went on...

The best thing that helped me was knowing that my heart was in the hands of my heavenly Father...the only One who truly cares and understands. It was in this hope that I gained strength.

I grieved but not as those who have no hope.


And here I am today, being able to talk so openly about something that was, and still is, so painful and so deep.

But if this will help someone who needs to hear these words today, then I believe my experience will have been worth it all.

My friend Saija has just lost a dear sister. Her recent post was so beautiful... I really have to share on this blog entry the poem she posted there.

What comfort, what strength this poem brought my heart!

God gently and quietly walks with us during the season of our life that we need His comfort and His strength. This I have experienced to be true in my own life.

Here She Comes

I am standing upon the seashore;

a ship at my side spreads

her white sails to the morning breeze

and starts for the ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength

and I stand and watch her until at length

she hangs like a speck of white cloud

just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says, "There! She's gone."

Gone where? Gone from my sight - that is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull and spar

as when she left my side,

and just as able to bear her load of living freight

to the place of destination.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone at my side says,

"There! She's gone."

there are other eyes watching her coming

and other voices ready to take up the glad shout,

"Here she comes!"

... and that is dying.

- Author unknown