JULY 4
The evenings were the hardest to bear. The ritual of the hot
drink, the lumps of sugar for the two dogs, the saying of
prayers—his boyhood habit carried on throughout our
married life—the good night kiss. I continued the ritual, be-
cause this too lessened pain, and was, in its very poignancy,
a consolation.
—DAPHNE DU MAURIERRituals—of a formal or informal nature—carry us through
some of our most difficult times. For one thing, they help
us know what to do or say. They supply us with a form into
which we can pour our inchoate energy and grief—the
comfort of the customary.
If they are rituals we have shared with the one we love,
they have even more power, bringing the presence of the
loved one close in the echoes and gestures of things we have
done and said together.
And if they are rituals—like the saying of prayers—which
have been shared historically by families and by communit-
ies of faith—why, then it is as though a whole legion of
people gathered around us to support us in our loneliness
and sorrow. But, most importantly, there is the presence of
the one with whom we have most intimately shared these
rituals. We are, indeed, “going through the motions,” but
they are holy motions.
As I repeat some of the patterns of our life together, I can almost
sense the presence of my loved one.