I went to the funeral of my college classmate. We were young and struggling but we had big dreams and education was our ticket. We worked hard, supported one another and finally we all graduated at the same times. After graduation, we went our separate ways and did our best to live up to our dreams. She became an influential member in her profession, in her community, and lovely mother to her children. Though I don't see her often, deep in my heart, I always wish we live to our old age, with hair as white as snow, wrinkles carving in our eyes, and cheeks, see our children's children, etc... That hope and dream evaporated when I stand before her coffin and replaced with sorrow. I looked over to her grieving children and words left me. We looked at each and our eyes reflected our grief and pain, in our own way. Shortly, after that I want to another funeral of an elderly and there too, words were few but the silence of grief is no less.
When I was young, it was hard to understand how old folks wailed so easily. Now I've seen so many loss and wailing come easily from my heart and flowing out like rivers in my eyes... Maybe people who knew grief and loss coined that phrase, "cry me a river..."
Loss and life, both inseparable...