We have been meaning to post something about the service, and other news that we have, but the exhaustion of grief is catching up with us a bit; and leafing through books, old journals and other kids of piles has left Kiri, at least, feeling kind of sad and empty. I look at a wimpy pile of stacked things, and think: "He is so much more." But the evidence I have been staring at these past two days is a little mocking of the grandness and beauty and life of our memories.
I was always his feisty younger sister, and did not stop, often enough, to tell him how much I admired him and thought he was beautiful in every way.
We will be back online by Thursday or Friday.
-Kirianne
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A little glut of messages to family has left me back at this old blog. Now over five years have passed; Jonathan's younger (only) sister feels a strange mix of shame and gladness at seeing these old photos which come so strikingly out of her swamp of old memories. We promise ourselves that those we lose will never leave us, and yet time has this way of blurring our images. I try to imagine what he would have been doing today. I wonder what our children would have called him. I give thanks for all he left behind, and hope I might be worthy of it.
This blog has been so long silent that a part of me imagines I write privately, or for some future reader who wonders who I might have been. In this moment, though, I am everyone who grieves, or has lost. I am all gratitude, and all longing for reunion, and all hope for that glorious day when the ship is taken up again by those waiting on some far shore. I am tears and love and renewal. I am alone, and yet will never be.
That which is broken shall be made whole again... someday, maybe, communion will be undone, and the bread shall be not broken, but restored.
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