A fellow weeper

December 8, 2017

“…Nothing tends more to relieve that overwhelming sense of wretchedness, with which the heart of the sufferer is sometimes oppressed, than a generous pity for a fellow weeper!”

“Your long and intimate letter gave me great pleasure. There is a sympathy in the feeling of people who have been recently afflicted, which cannot be expected to be found in others; a mutual chord, which, touched, vibrates with a kindred sound. We have not suffered exactly alike. But we have suffered; and that circumstance has made us love each other better than we did before.” – The Widow Directed to the Widow’s God by John Angell James, 1841

There truly is sympathy in people who have been recently afflicted. I have found this to be so true in recent months. I have connected with other widows who are suffering as I am. I have also connected with women who have lost a sister or a child. I never thought I’d have a need for a “group”. But, I went at the urging of my son. And I am so glad I found griefshare. I thank God for these fellow weepers.

All the Feels

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I wasn’t sure what to title this or how to start. Right now I am typing on my chromebook as I listen to a virtual concert on my laptop.  I have been a subscriber to Garden and Gun for a number of years. Today as I read their email I found out there was going to be a virtual concert live tonight. I was able to pass the word along to people I thought might be interested, and then I settled in to listen and I’m having a grand time!

http://luckreunion.com/tilfurthernotice

 

This whole COVID-19 thing has brought with it a lot of different emotions.

Joy in the way people have pulled together for the good of all – like this free concert. I did donate a little because I was grateful for the entertainment and generosity of the musicians.

Disgust in the way people have gone crazy hoarding toilet paper, and more importantly, meat and potatoes. What are they thinking?

Gratitude for all who have been kind and offered help to others. Including advice on how to schedule the kids at home and stuff like that.

4:00, wallow in self-pity. 4:30, stare into the abyss. 5:00, solve world hunger, tell no one. 5:30, jazzercize; 6:30, dinner with me. I can’t cancel that again. 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing. I’m booked. Of course, if I bump the loathing to 9, I could still be done in time to lay in bed, stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness.” — The Grinch 

Community in the conversations I’ve had when I did venture out.  Like the woman in Aldi who was clearly trusting in Christ and we shared Bible verses with each other.  And the couple in Sprouts – the woman told her husband she was buying “Stress flowers” so I just started a conversation with them. Turns out they were from New Orleans and we agreed that this was worse than how people act when a hurricane is coming. Then there was the lady in the Dollar Tree who told me all about the psychic who predicted all this and then told me all about her bladder infection. I just listened and nodded until I could politely get away. I figured she’d been quarantined a bit and just need to talk.

Doubt about how all this has gone down. Something just doesn’t seem right.

Claude Lacombe:
Mr. Neary, what do you want?

Roy Neary:
I just want to know that it’s really happening.

From Close Encounters of the Third Kind