Of A Broken Heart
Of a broken heart.
Yesterday afternoon the phone rang, a daughter calling to tell me her father had died. We were friends, same age, a month apart. We met in Grief Support Group, shared many long evenings together. I came as priest and facilitator. He came with a broken heart. Three months earlier his son had died suddenly, shockingly. Two years before that, his wife had died after a long, suffering battle with cancer. The sum of his loss was incalculable. The burden of his grief was unbearable. For himself, he was inconsolable.
If for himself he was inconsolable, for others who came to Grief Support Group from time to time, he was a listener and encourager. He listened closely to people’s loss stories and ongoing grief experience. He shared his own grief in ways that were helpful to others and to me.
He shared colorful memories. He had lived a remarkable life of many adventures, with a wife he worshiped and with whom he had raised beautiful children they adored. He was a great story teller with fascinating tales to tell, enjoyed telling them, told them well. As a fellow sufferer in grief, he was also an encourager for others.
When he graduated from Grief Support Group he joined one of my Bible study groups and was again a worthy contributor and participant.
He tried to strike up with old friends from high school and later, but it never sparked. He had been so in love for so long, and was so devastated at his losses that there was no starting anew. Strikingly handsome as a youth and young man, he was a pilot from an early age. He met a beautiful and extraordinarily talented girl. At about age twenty they eloped to another state in a small plane that he borrowed from a friend. He went to university and earned degrees. Years later, fulfilling a dream, he became an airline pilot, captain and executive, and his stories about travels and marriage were many and delightful. He was a true romantic. Together they loved music, song and love. Daughter and son. In time, grandchildren.
The death of his son, and coming so soon after her death, put him farther down in spirit than anyone I have ever known. He tried hard, but found recovery from grief impossible, time not healing. Even music not healing. Eventually he stopped. Stopped trying. Stopped associating with others. Stopped leaving his apartment. Stopped eating. Stopped hoping. Stopped letting time work its slow miracle.
His spirit stopped breathing.
His broken heart stopped beating.
And my phone rang.
Time To Say Goodbye.
One of their favorites, to hear it, to sing it with Brightman and Bocelli.
When I'm alone I dream of the horizon and words fail me.
There is no light in a room where there is no sun
and there is no sun if you're not here with me, with me.
From every window unfurls my heart the heart that you have won.
Into me you've poured the light,
the light that you found by the side of the road.
Time to say goodbye.
Places that I've never seen or experienced with you.
Now I shall, I'll sail with you upon ships across the seas,
seas that exist no more,
it's time to say goodbye.
Time to say goodbye. And to pray it.
Depart, O Christian soul out of this world, in the name of God the Father who created you; in the name of God the Son who redeemed you; in the name of God the Holy Spirit who sanctifies you. May your resting place be in the paradise of God, may your company be his saints and holy angels, and may you realize the reasonable and holy hope of eternal life with those you love.
Go in peace.
Tom+