JULY 27
Hell, Madame, is to love no longer.
—GEORGES BERNANOSOf course we miss the expressions of love from the one we
have lost. And our love for that person, too, goes on and on.
Where can we put it? We direct it into the air, hoping
somehow it will find its target.
Things could be worse! Imagine what it would be like if,
in our grieving, not only were we unable to love the one
who is gone, but we couldn’t respond with overflowing
hearts to the dear ones who come to comfort us.
Music has been called a universal language. Love is anoth-
er. But it takes constant replenishment, and fortunate are
we if our experience has been such that we can be among
the replenishers of that love.
As we grieve over our physical separation from our loved
one, perhaps we can think of that person and ourselves as
surrounded by a love in which the entire creation lives and
moves and has its being.
Perhaps, especially in my sorrow, I can reach out in love to others.