JULY 7
For we have shared many griefs, but they are translated into
pure love and rejoicing when we meet.
—MAY SARTON
What makes our hearts rise with joy when we meet again
people with whom we have shared a sorrow?
We have all heard of the guilt of the survivor—the person
who wonders why he or she has been spared when someone
else has perished.
Perhaps there’s such a thing, after some time for healing
has passed, as the joy of the survivor—not in any gloating
or triumphant way, but in simple acknowledgment that,
having come through severe testing and anguish, one is
alive and has been able to modulate that grief into a life that
is productive and to a large degree joyful. We have passed
through fire and not been destroyed. We have, in fact, been
reborn. Because when our loved one died, something in us
died, too—some expectation or hope of a future together.
And out of the ashes of that destroyed dream we have been
lifted into new life.
And when we find someone for whom this is also
true—especially if that is someone with whom we have
shared grief in the past—why, of course we are filled with
love and rejoicing! What else?
In the fellowship of those reborn out of grief, all are sisters and
brothers.