In the words of M. Ward:
Death is just a door, Blake said it first
It’s just another room we enter
It’s a threshold that hurts
Birth is just a chorus, death is just a verse
In the great song of spring that the mockingbirds sing
We come and we go, a-weeping and a-wailing
Our heads in the hands of the nurse
Well, put your head on my shoulder, baby, tell me where it hurts
You say you lost your one and only, could it get any worse?
I said, “Death is just a door, you’ll be reunited on the other side”
Yeah, death is just a door, you’ll be reunited by and by
~~~
Processing death has never been a strength of mine. In fact, I usually deal with it very badly, whether or not it was someone close to me. I usually resort to uncontrollable sobs and music with alternating themes of sadness and hope. I still don’t have it right. Sorrow is a lonely feeling. My darker side wallows in it and drinks it in with unquenchable thirst, while the rest of my redeemed soul tries to shake myself out of it. Thankfully I can feel that God is slowly working a little more maturity into me. Loss has made me thankful, which turns into praise. So while I may be totally messy on the outside with my emotions, somewhere in my heart there is an anchor that I cling to.
(If anyone is wondering, there have been several unexpected deaths recently that have been bewildering and devastating to those affected)
