“Can’t you do something to make this pain go away?”
No, my child, but understand that the greater is your pain, the greater was your love. Only passionate hearts can produce passionate grief. Such hearts use the gift of time not only to refill what has been emptied, but to reshape sorrow into something that honors the one who was loved and is now gone.
“How can I go on with this agony inside of me?”
No answer will satisfy you now, my child. I could say that if you were lost at sea, battered by the wind, cold, frightened, but unwilling to force yourself to slip beneath the waves, you would eventually swim to shore, back to where you belong, to the land of the one who was loved and is now gone.
“What will happen to the emptiness that is now my life?”
May it rest in a special place within you, a place of respect and remembrance, but far enough from your destiny that it cannot poison. May it always speak of the miracle that was the life of the one who was loved and is now gone.