Her Absence Is Like the Sky

Today, I'm remembering my darling niece. It's hard not to, most days. Every part of my every day, lately, seems to be directly or indirectly affected by the feeling of loss and heartache. Somedays, I feel ok...somedays I even feel joyful. But then my body tells me otherwise- it breaks down and tells me that life is not normal and that it will take a long time to heal. The grief is still present and I'm not sure when (if ever...) that grief will disappear and be replaced by something else. It feels like it's ever-looming... And I miss that baby girl so much. It's amazing how the feeling of loss can be so great without ever having even really met her. 

I was reading A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis today and this quote stuck with me about the feeling of absence:

"At first I was very afraid of going to places where H. and I had been happy- our favourite pub, our favourite wood. But I decided to do it at once-like sending a pilot up again as soon as possible after he's had a crash. Unexpectedly, it makes no difference. Her absence is no more emphatic in those places than anywhere else. It's not local at all. I suppose that if one were forbidden all salt one wouldn't notice it much more in any one food than in another. Eating in general would be very different, ever day, at every meal. It is like that. The act of living is different all through. Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything."

...And yet my hope is also being restored through the One who gives life. I am attempting to give my emotions, thoughts and feelings daily to God because I know that He can heal and renew. 

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer." -Romans 12:12.