by Carol Powell
THE DEATH-RESURRECTION mystery is woven into the fabric of the universe. All around, life is bursting forth proclaiming joy. Trees are budding, flowers are blooming, birds are singing. Rejoicing is in the air.
But my heart is heavy and my soul is in grief. It is as though winter had never ended and Lent continues. Death darkens our door even as the joy of resurrection has been proclaimed in all the churches.
Broken and Bereft
My beloved granddaughter, only two hours after her birth, was summoned home to heaven. We know and believe that death is swallowed up in victory because of the resurrection of Christ. Our faith is strong, but our hearts are broken and bereft. All around, the ‘Alleluias’ of the Easter season are being sung, but our hearts are stuck in the Good Friday dirge.
People try to comfort us, offering Masses, sentiments of condolence and support, but nothing can touch the agony that grips our hearts. We know better than to ask, “Why, God?” There is no answer to this question. Just like God is mystery, so too is the answer to the question, “Why me?” Why us is as hidden as the mystery of God.
We sink into our pain, sink into the crucified Lord with whom we have become one, the nails piercing both His and our hands and feet. We are one, Lord, in a place we did not want to be, with an experience we would never want to have.
“You have been crucified with Christ,” St. Paul tells us. Jesus says, “Live in me and I in you.” But, who knew this union could be so painful?
All the crosses we see and wear are so beautiful and sanitized, but this cross is not like that. It is crushing, and bloody, and devastating. All my insides are crushed. I hear His words, “They have pierced my hands and my feet. They have numbered all my bones.”
When I decided to follow you, Lord, I had no idea the pain could be so great, the cost of union and resurrection so dear. You told us we must give up everything to follow you, even ourselves. But this pain, this loss is too much.
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me” – that was what you said from the cross. That is how I feel, but not always. There are glimmers of hope, moments of relief, people, situations, experiences, when I know you are there, when I know you are with me despite my doubts.
Feel Guilty for Grieving
I suffer not only for myself, but mostly for my daughter, her husband and her son.
“There is no pain greater than this, that parents would lose their child.” That is what my mother used to say even though she never lost a child. Sometimes I feel guilty for grieving, but I was – or am – her grandmother.
“Who am I to feel so bad,” I think, “My daughter and her husband lost a child.” But pain is pain, is pain. Grieving is no fun. It hurts and it comes in waves. One never knows when it is going to manifest itself. Suddenly it is there.
There are moments of peace when I think, “Why am I crying? She is in heaven, with God, experiencing peace and total love. Am I crying for her or for myself.”
The answer is clear. I am crying for my daughter’s pain. I am crying for my grandmother’s heart that longed to touch her, to kiss her, to hold her, to tell her that I love her, to watch her grow up.
One with God
The realization hits me. She knows all this. She is with God. How could she not? That is the resurrection. She is one with God. She is one with her mother and her father and her brother. She is one with me and my husband. We are all one in and with God. It is a spiritual union.
Even though we cannot see her, she is there as sure as the breeze is there, as sure as invisible energy is present, as sure as the tiny molecules of the universe are there. God is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. All past, present and future are in God and we are one with God and everyone forever. This I believe with all my heart.
Christ is risen, Alleluia, Alleluia.
Powell and her husband are the directors of faith formation at Our Lady of Mercy Church, Forest Hills.
