The Light that Passed and Shone Forever (348 Words)
Some people will tell you that when you lose someone, you grieve and move on. They tell you, and rightfully so, that the loved one who passed would not want to see you sad. They would want to see you as they knew you, living and alive. But if you have ever truly loved, and if you have lost, how can you not miss the one you will never see in this world again? How can your soul not be shaken by a separation so sudden, so wrong?
There is comfort in knowing the parting is not eternal. Death is, after all, a door. I have known people who speak of the afterlife as “illusion,” a false comfort, but if it were false it would not be comfortable. And to be honest, it is a distant comfort in the agony of the immediate present.
There was a little angel who once lived on Earth. That angel had a light that warmed the world—and whatever she touched, whoever she touched, was kindled in her light. But the world was too dark, too cold, to allow a light like hers to shine forever. So when in the fever of battle she was called Home, what should the world think but that it had won—that it had put out a little struck match that had not been afraid to shine in its face?
But the light was still there. The heavier the darkness, the longer the night, the brighter shone the angel’s fire—not just a single flame but hundreds, thousands, in paths she had walked and faces she had kissed. Her light shone from all who had known her. And in their living, the lives she had shaped, her brilliance remained.
She could never be lost for she would always be. And in that glow the world saw its own passing, for darkness will always shrink before even the littlest candle flame.
For my little angel. God bless you, mo chroi, my little heart, your light will always be with me.