My Grief Is an Open Wound

My grief is an open wound.

The raw feelings of my emotions are ever before me.

They rise up without warning as often as the day breaks anew.

I’m broken, and I can’t be fixed.

Tears and deep sorrow torment me daily.

I have buried my dreams in the tree-crowned meadow.

My loneliness is unending and constantly before me.

My life is precious to me no longer.

How can I go on without my helpmeet and best friend?

Truly, the better half of me has passed away.

Without her I am no longer me.

There is within me a hollowness and an emptiness that cannot be filled.

I cannot be comforted from my anguish.

The wind from my sails has forever gone.

Aimlessly except for the purpose of serving my Lord, I reluctantly continue until I don’t.

The only slight mitigation of my misery is to lose myself in Christian service.

How long must I persist? Is there a place for me in heaven? Why must I wait?

My life’s companion and fellow pilgrim has preceded me, awaiting my time, I pray.

I cannot bear the pain and the heartache.

A little while yet I must work, but never too soon I must go to my resting place.

Beside my love my body below the boughs and beneath the grass must repose.

A meaningful existence, earthly hopes and dreams are no longer mine to own.

Going through the motions of life I must, but why do I trouble myself with it?

All and everything earthly is vanity—naught but empty nothingness.

I await my passing, too, with eagerness as one too weary to press forward.

Assuredly, no man ever loved a woman more devotedly than I loved her.

From the permanence of my grief I will never recover.

I simply cannot make it alone!

I will not relinquish my love for the wife of my youth though from me she has gone.

I will go to her and to be with the Lord. I am ready!

~ Louis Everette Rushmore

Explore posts in the same categories: Back at the House, Funeral

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