The Quiet After Goodbye
🌅 The Quiet After Goodbye
"He could feel a hand on his shoulder. "All right," he said softly. "All right." He stood at his walker. He could sense eyes staring at him. "Goodbye," he said to the coffin. He turned on his walker and began to move away. It was a day of sun, warm, bright, and a soft wind from the west. The earth was green. The sun felt good on his face and hands."
—TERRY KAY
There's a strange silence that follows the funeral — a holy stillness, like creation itself has paused in reverence. The moment feels suspended, sacred, unbearable. And somehow beautiful.
📜 Rituals That Hold Us
The rituals help. They give form to the chaos. A service. A reading. A closing prayer. These traditions remind us what to do when we no longer know what to feel.
No, rituals don’t heal us.
But they hold us until we can begin to heal.
And maybe that’s enough.
I am learning to be held. Learning to let the simple moments carry me. Sometimes, the smallest pause speaks the deepest truth.
"Sometimes the simplest moments hold the most profound truths."
🖤Goodbye Without a Funeral
We didn’t have a funeral for Mark.
He was cremated. Quietly. Without ceremony. No gathering. No fanfare. No strangers.
And while many people find comfort in traditional services, I’ve never felt drawn to
them — not the way they’ve always been done. Not for us.
For me, the moment of goodbye came when Bryce and I brought him home.
A black box.
A tote bag.
Finality in physical form.
We stood in the stillness of our home. There were no speeches. No hymns. Just us.
But we still said goodbye — in our own way.
✝️ Grief Is Still Sacred
Grief doesn't need a service to be sacred.
Love doesn't require a pulpit to be holy.
Sometimes, goodbye is whispered in the quiet of a room.
Sometimes it's felt in the way your chest aches when you set the urn down.
Sometimes it's the warmth of the sun on your skin and the sound of the wind through the trees, and somehow… that's enough.
I believe in that.
📖 A Time to Weep, A Time to Dance
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens…
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance.”
—Ecclesiastes 3:1, 4 (NIV)
This is the time I mourn.
But it will not last forever.
Even the quiet has a purpose.
And even here, I am held.
—A gentle reminder that mourning is part of the sacred rhythm of life.
💜 Dyan's Grief Support Resources
🎥 Watch my daily grief reflections on Flip_
📚 Explore my grief tools and comfort books
📖 Read my memoir Divine Light
Some links may be affiliate links. Thank you for supporting my healing journey.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Comments
Post a Comment