A TIME TO MOURN
I hear the mourning dove in the Larch tree outside my bedroom window. Unlike the cheery song of other birds, the dove has a song that is sad and lonely.
I arrived early at the orchard stand and pulled into the parking lot the same time as a van with Virginia license plates. The driver looked English but spoke in Dutch with the Amish man. He was taking bushels of peaches back home to Virginia. I asked if he had family in the area. His wife's relatives live on a nearby farm. He paused briefly then said "my wife passed away with a heart attack three weeks ago at the age of 57". By then, two other customers had arrived and gasp with sympathy as they listen to our conversation. The Amish man, myself, and the two women customers grieved with the widower as he shared his loss.
A few days ago, I found myself at the funeral home extending my sympathy to a widow younger than myself. How do you say goodbye to your soul mate? How do you go on living when you feel you are half dead?
Today's newspaper announces the 'unexpected death' of a friend from my school days and I sigh with the mourning dove outside my window as we express our heavy hearts in gentle quiet ways.