Light and Dark
I chose to capture my light and dark image through a tunnel at the playground. I found it fitting since Clara would be almost 7 she would likely be spending lots of time at one. Seeing little girls climbing through the tunnels reminds me of my own crawling through my grief. To this day dark tunnels are something I fear. It isn’t until I can see light that I am able to feel my fears subside but just a little bit. I will skip those tunnels whenever possible.
As much as we wish for only light, when the light is gone there is only darkness. I feel like there really isn’t a darkness but rather an absence of light. Missing the light can leave us stumpling and falling. We struggle for breath and balance. We live in fear of the lack of light.
In grief we sometimes only see our lost child as the light. We don’t know how we will ever see light again. We stumble along our journey through grief. We fall and fear and get stuck sometimes. We wonder if only… Is this normal? How will I do this? And in that darkness we find these tiny dots of light.
For so many of us we are attracted to the light. We know we miss the light. For some of us the light is a companion or a friendship. It can be a kind word or an understanding heart. For some it is faith and hope. In some instances it is another child on the way. These flickers of light only get stronger as we journey toward them. Some of those lights last forever and some of them carry us to the next waiting light.
In my journey my light began when I started focusing on finding good in every day. My light started small. I was thankful for getting out of bed, for eating, for hugs. Eventually I was thankful for the good memories, Clara’s life, and the people I met along my journey.
I was also one of those few who soon had a child on the way. That light brought it’s own darkness through fears. Each step of the way there were tiny flickers of hope that grew. They are what gets us through each day.
It was through these shining rays that I realized how I felt was similar to others. It turned on more lights until I realized I was holding the light in my hands again. I can’t imagine my life without those people who were there for me. I can only imagine I might still be stumbling in the dark, searching for hope and comfort.
In grief the lack of light can consume us. We can easily drown in the depths of darkness if we let it. It is when we make the choice to walk toward the light that we find and experience hope and comfort.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).
