“There is nothing that can replace the absence of someone dear to us, and one should not even attempt to do so. One must simply hold out and endure it. At first that sounds very hard, but at the same time it is also a great comfort. For to the extent the emptiness truly remains unfilled one remains connected to the other person through it. It is wrong to say that God fills the emptiness. God in no way fills it but much more leaves it precisely unfilled and thus helps us preserve –even in pain– the authentic relationship. Further more, the more beautiful and full the remembrances, the more difficult the separation. But gratitude transforms the torment of memory into silent joy. One bears what was lovely in the past not as a thorn but as a precious gift deep within, a hidden treasure of which one can always be certain.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Six months, Bear.

The gaping hole remains, and I understand, as Bonhoeffer explains, that it is that very emptiness that binds us.

Today, we celebrated you with an adventure. It seemed fitting to visit a place of ruin in pursuit of connection and remembrance. I still find myself standing back to care for you as I keep an eye on your sister and brother.

My hidden treasure, you’ll ever be.

Winnie moved up to primary, and Harry joined the toddler program at the local Montessori this morning. Both were thrilled with their school day accessory. 

Abide with me: fast falls the eventide;

the darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.

When other helpers fail and comforts flee,

Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;

earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away.

Change and decay in all around I see.

O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour.

What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?

Who like Thyself my guide and strength can be?

Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me.

I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless,

ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.

Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?

I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes,

Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.

Heaven’s morning breaks and earth’s vain shadows flee;

in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

Abide with Me

Text: Henry Francis Lyte, 1847