I’m driving through thick fog. The kind of fog that makes it hard to see anything in front of you. The kind of fog that usually delays school bus routes and has people driving well below the speed limit. It’s the kind of element of nature that impacts your mood in less than cheerful ways. As I drive farther I can feel my annoyance increase and my positivity decrease. I cannot see the sun, the clouds, or any piece of light that the sky usually holds.
Suddenly, through the dense fog I look up and see a tiny piece of a cotton candy sky. A tiny piece of light and beauty. It’s captivating. It’s like the heavens have opened up and given me a peek of what’s above the fog. Hope. Light. Radiance.
I find myself smiling as I reflect on how it mirrors my grief journey. At the beginning stages of grief I was engulfed by thick and barely breathable fog. I was surrounded by darkness. There was no vision of light or hope. There was no view of anything other than the gloom and haze that confined me.
One day something changed. I was still full of pain, grief and heartbreak but also filled with the hope that the light might come back. Though it would never shine the same, it would return, to shine on all that was left to come.
This moment, this fog, this piece of beauty and radiance poking through, has reminded me of the truth about light. It remains there, always. It never left. I purely couldn’t see it, for it was overpowered by the pain of a significant loss and the emptiness from a beautiful soul that was suddenly missing from my life. That absence changed everything for me, including the very atmosphere where I remained.
The light still shined brightly, although it was temporarily hidden. It remained. It never left. I just couldn’t see it. But it was waiting for me. It always has been.
Grief clouds our world with pain. It covers our hearts, our lives, and all the pieces that remain with heartbreak, loneliness and despair. But through the thickest fog and the darkest of times, the light remains because the love remains. You might not see it, but it’s there. One day, the sting from the absence will lessen because the power of the love and legacy begins to shine with an intensity larger than the loss.
Eventually the love wins, which means the light wins.
You may not see it now. You may not see it for a long time, but I promise you, above the darkness and through the fog is a radiant cotton candy sky decorated by a beautiful and one-of-a-kind love.
Keep looking up. Keep holding hope and faith and grab those sunglasses because soon the light will shine again. I promise.
