Mourning Morning

Ugh. It had long faded into mere memory, but this morning it was back: that awful feeling in my stomach, and the grief and worry as I awaken to the realization of what is going on. It's just part of the mourning process. It's natural to feel a sense of grief when something meaningful is threatened or lost. My life is meaningful. It is wonderful. I have marveled at the abundance within my life. So, of course the possibility of leaving it behind sooner than hoped is something worthy of grief (even though I know it is a temporary loss). And because things were going so well for so long, there was the hope that things would continue in a miraculous way. And maybe they still will, somehow. But adjusting one's view when things change can trigger grief for the "old" picture. So I awaken to that awful sick feeling again, and I guess I will at least for a season.

Luckily I still awaken to the realization of great blessings (including the one slumbering next to me), and it helps. It reminds me of a poem my mom wrote a long time ago, called, "Morning":

Still half asleep, I hear the rain -

Sad little drops from murky skies.

Another soggy, muddy boot day

Settles sadly in my foggy mind

Sighing, waking, I turn toward you

And find your sweet smile and bear hug.

Slow, sunshiny gladness stirs my heart

As my happy world turns warm and dry.

And after arising this morning I remembered the words of Ecclesiastes:

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven...

...a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance...

Maybe morning time is my "mourning" time (which is thankfully supported by a bear hug), and maybe (hopefully) there will also be time each day to laugh and dance.