Tag Archives: Grief

Prayer(s) for Mourning

Recluse Grave

Image by eqqman via Flickr

(This was written at the request of a friend.  May she find them helpful.)

Ancient Lord,

my loved one who has passed beyond this world.  Guide him to a place of
honor in the Land of the Ancestors, so that he may find the peace he
deserves.  Grant him rest that he might prepare for the next great
adventure that waits him.

So mote it be.

Lady of Tears,

me comfort now as I mourn the passing of my loved one.  Let me remember
and cherish the love that we shared, the love that now fuels my sorrow.
 In my grief let my memories of him, his trials, and his triumphs burn
bright that I might give testimony to his life and deeds..  Let him
live forever in my heart, where age and infirmity cannot touch him.

So mote it be.

Old Diary Entry: Tears of Gold

"Freya" (1901) by Johannes Gehrts. T...

Image via Wikipedia

I wrote the following entry and posted it to Bloopdiary (when I was still there) on 19 August 2005, when I was still processing through my breakup with Mike, who I had been with for four years.  I recently mentioned this entry to someone else and realized I no longer had a copy online.  So now it’s online again.  Enjoy!

As I’m getting settled into my new apartment and finding ways to establish myself in Rochester, I find myself realizing just how little I think of Mike. In some ways, I find myself in that strange state where it just doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve cried my tears, and while I feel the slight ache of being alone once again (and not getting any younger), I have a strange peace about having lost him.

It was a rough journey getting here. I found myself emotionally distraught about the whole thing. I cried so many tears. To be honest, I never realized I could cry so much over the end of a relationship when I was the person to end it. But there you have it. And I think I learned a lot about it. I came to understand one of Freyja’s myths a bit better.

When Freyja lost Od, she cried tears of gold. Indeed, according to Snorri, this is why “Freyja’s tears” became a kenning for gold. I always found the fact that her tears were gold a mild curiosity. Now I see it as an incredibly profound mystery. And I have a much greater appreciation for the value of grief. Indeed, I’d go so far as to say that true grief is a sacred act in its own right. Hence the tears of gold.

I wanted to quit being sad over the breakup. I kept wanting to “move on already.” I didn’t want to shed any more tears. I was “wasting time.” But no, the tears, the sadness, the grief kept coming. And my sweet Lady kept telling me, “No, you need this. Cry your tears. They’re my golden tears.” So I did the only thing I could do, I cried, and I explored my grief.

Then I realized why I cried so much. I was experience true grief, the kind that only comes when one loves so freely and without reservation, only to lose that love. In effect, I wept bitterly because I loved fully. And there is a certain beauty in that.

You see, I think that’s the mistake we too often make. We’re too afraid of that kind of grief, so we avoid being so vulnerable. We only love grudgingly, often holding back and never truly letting go. We do that because we think that sense of grief is bad and to be avoided.

After the past couple months, I’ve come to a different way of thinking. As painful as such sorrow and grief may be, it is in its own way a celebration. My tears were bitter, but they were born of my precious love. I came to understand that as I cherished my love, I could cherish my grief which came as a result of it. In that view, they became bittersweet, and I could see how they really were tears of gold.

I’m not sure many people would understand that. But that’s okay. I guess it’s one of those things you have to experience and come to understand yourself. Me explaining it just won’t do. But for those who do understand, I can just imagine their reaction to reading this.


The Voice of a broken heart

Image by WolfS?ul via Flickr

I love you and I miss you. But I’m also hurt.

I understand
you’re in a difficult position. I understand that it’s frightening for
you. And I understand why you’ve made the choices you did. My heart
breaks for you that you were ever in a position that you had to face
such choices.

But you were in that position, and you made those
choices. What’s more, you made many choices that helped to leave us in
the situation we now find ourselves in. And I feel like you chose to
ignore that fact, and instead place responsibility entirely on those
around you — including me — instead of accepting your fair share of
that responsibility.

Please understand, I’m not saying it’s all
your fault, either. We both made choices, and not all of mine were the
wisest or best choices I could have made. And others have contributed
as well. There’s plenty of “blame” to go around. But it hurts that you
seem to want me to shoulder your responsibility — or at least part of
it — in addition to my own.

In some ways, I wonder if I made a
mistake in trying to make things easier for you. I sometimes steered
clear of bringing up the consequences of your choices or the painful
decisions that you might have had. I find myself wondering if in doing
so, I merely encouraged you to continue denying your own
responsibility. If so, then I suspect I did both of us a great

So I’m hurt right now. But I still love you, and I still miss you. I think that makes the pain all the more acute.

Someone I care deeply about is grieving.

Massachusetts, USA

Image via Wikipedia

Someone I care deeply about has lost someone he cares deeply about today.  Please keep him in your thoughts as he grieves.  If you’re the praying type, please pray for him.  I don’t usually tell people how they should pray, but if you would indulge me, I’d like to offer these suggestions:

Pray that he has the courage to grieve and grieve fully.

Pray that he feels safe enough to grieve.

Pray that if he needs to cry, he finds a time and place where he can allow himself to cry.

Pray that if he needs to shout, he finds a time and place where he can allow himself to shout.

Pray that if he needs to ask the hard questions, he finds a time, a place, and the sense that he can safely ask the hard questions.

Pray not that his grieving will be cut short or sped up, but that he may go through the process fully and properly.

And pray that in it all, he remembers that we grieve because we have first loved.  And let the memory of that love inject some sweetness in the often painful grieving process.

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