A Mother’s Nature

When–at the misty, cold dying of the year–even the smallest leaf falls from it’s mother tree, is it ever forgotten?

Does the tree feel the separation? Perhaps she stands immobile by nature’s force, seeing where it lies silent on the ground. Does she ache with the futile longing to scoop it back up and attach it to herself permanently, once more?

On a misty, autumn day, I walk among the avenue of mother trees, who let their heavy tears fall to the ground, rolling off of their tender branches in the form of rain, making soft, echoing, pattering sounds of grief. For, surely, even the smallest leaf is not forgotten.

I stand in the misty parkway lane, the fog thickening around me, lying thickly on my shoulders like a weight of sadness. My own heart trembles with sadness for you, mother tree. For even after winter winds have blown through, removing all evidence of your loss, with nothing left to show of their existence, you are compelled to go on being a mother, carrying with you always the weight of one who was once so fresh and brilliant, now gone forever except within your heart.

But I know you. Despite this chilling loss that has crept over you, you continue to stand strong. The cold days of winter may seem harsh. Snow and ice may cling to you for a time, but someday the sun will shine once more, melting away those frozen shards of painful memory.

And with the sun will come another chance at new life and happiness. And you will revel in that warm happiness, all the more fiercely loyal and strong because of your loss. For, surely, even the smallest leaf is never forgotten.

-.-

I don’t usually elaborate on any of the pieces I write, but this one is very special to me. It came to me this morning as I walked around the lake (and yes, the weather was cold, misty, and foggy), after being told by a dear friend of mine that she and her husband had suffered a miscarriage.

My heart truly does tremble with sadness for them, and any others in their position. I have never yet had any children of my own, but miscarriages are more common than some people might think. I have had other friends and acquaintances who have had to deal with that pain, and, from what I understand, it is a pain and knowledge of loss that never truly goes away, even if it lessens.

It then occurred to me as I was typing, that while I wrote it with miscarriage in mind, it is applicable to the grief that touches peoples hearts after any loss. I hope that maybe it can speak comfort to anyone who may stumble across it that is grieving. Maybe it will tell them that they are never alone, and there are still good things to come.

Advertisements

“Give sorrow words;the grief that does not speak knits up the o’erwrought heart and bids it break.”-Shakespeare

 “Sing, silent sparrow of the morning.
Drown out the weeping sound of mourning.
Morning comes in waves of sorrow,
Somber as the day that follows.
Still, morning comes.
Wake, though the heavy feeling lingers.
Catch and release it in your fingers,
Then let go.
Morning comes in waves of sorrow,
Somber as the day that follows.
Still, morning comes.
And I’ll never forget you, dear.
When the sun appears,
You’ll be my light.
And though it wasn’t said, my dear,
Every moment here you’ll be my life.
Morning comes in waves of sorrow,
Somber as the days that follow.
Still, morning comes.
So sing, silent sparrow of the morning.”
-Lucy Schwartz

Image

In the light of this personal tragedy that I’m now working though, and all of the thoughts it brings to my mind, I’m finding this song to be a great comfort.

Life is something that we, without a doubt, take for granted. We are not promised or guaranteed tomorrow, or even the rest of today. Are you ready?

I know and trust that Carol was a believer who had a strong and beautiful faith in Christ.
I also walk by faith, but I know I take my life for granted, so I hope and pray that I’ll be ready to meet my Savior when the time comes.

“I hear Your voice and I catch my breath.
‘Well done, my child, enter in and rest.’
Tears of joy roll down my cheek.
It’s beautiful, beyond my wildest dreams.
I want to run on greener pastures.
I want to dance on higher hills.
I want to drink from sweeter waters in the misty morning chill.
My soul is getting restless for the place where I belong.
I can’t wait to join the angels and sing
my heaven song.”