When There's Darkness That's Full of Light

Grief is a dark, dark place to live; made worse by the fact that for a time you must live there all alone. Even those around you who began their life in the habit of grief at the same time as you, can bring only a measure of comfort. Though the event that brought each of you into griefs dark domain is the same, the place it moves you into is as unique as God's fingerprint reflected through the DNA of your heart.



Before March 21st of last year my life was filled with light, my wife, my three children. Four bright lights placed in my life by the father of light in Heaven. Then in one brief instant darkness came upon me through the loss of one light. Only one fourth of the light was extinguished but all of the world went dark.



I cannot explain how the loss of one light can bring such total darkness. Each of the remaining lights have been dimmed by their own habitat of grief but they have not gone completely out. They each shine on me as they always have, and they each do their best to bring light back to my world, as I do my best to shine light into theirs, but the darkness remains.



Grief, it seems, defies the laws of the physical universe. In the physical universe light can never be defeated by the darkness; one small candle shines into every corner of a darkened room exposing everthing in its path. But in griefs distorted universe you find yourself constantly groping through the darkness even when surrounded by a multitude of lights.



The only conclusion I have drawn is that grief creates a universe clouded by an illusion. Just as an illusionist make us see things that our minds tell us cannot be there, the illusion of grief causes us to see total darkness in a lighted room. The only way to see the illusionist trick is for the illusionist himself to reveal it to you. Once revealed the illusion can never again hold power over you.



Grief's illusionist will never reveal his secrets to us, but there is one greater than he, that know's all the illusion's secrets, he will reveal them to us when we are ready to see them, not just desiring to see them but truly ready.



All we can do is pray for strength to hold on until that day, that day of glorious light, when darkness returns to its rightful place in our world once more.

When a Year is not a Year

In a little over a month a year will have passed. In many respects it was a normal year, twelve months, three hundred and sixty six days (2008 was a leap year), eight thousand seven hundred and eighty four hours. A normal year with just the right amount of days and hours though for me every day and every hour was twice as long as it should have been. It was twice as long as it should have been because this was the year I lost my son. My son and three of his friends were killed on March 21st 2008 in a horrific car crash.

So how long is a year in which you lose someone you love? I am fifty one years old and all the years that went before this one flashed by in a blur compared to this one.

They tell me that life will return to normal someday and days will return to their normal twenty four hour duration, I hope that day comes soon. I can't help but wonder; how long will the next three hundred and sixty five days last?