The Day Beauty Will Play On


Sometimes it makes me sad though, Andy being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright.  And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they’re gone. I guess I just miss my friend. ~ Red, Shawshank Redemption

This morning, I thought about this scene from my favorite movie.   I love how those words hold both beauty and sadness.  Last night, for the first time in a very long time, I had this desire to pick up the phone and call my mom.

Right before recognizing this was the feeling I was having, there was a sort of restlessness inside me.  I couldn’t place it.  I realize that, sometimes, I miss my mom and I don’t even realize that that’s the dull ache I am feeling.  There’s something missing.  There’s this piece of beauty that your soul quietly longs to lay eyes on again.

My life, nowadays, is filled with joy and beauty…lots and lots of it.   My life is far from empty.  And for that, I rejoice.  I am grateful for the blessings all around me.  Yet, those moments of missing my mom make me more aware of the absence of something beautiful and precious in my life.  And, yes, that sometimes makes me sad…even 22 years later.

The other day my husband and I were talking about his mom.  She went home to be with Lord in June.  We talked about how loss is filled with mixed emotions.  We are glad our loved ones are no longer suffering, but we still ache for their presence.  We still ache to see, and feel, and touch that beauty again in our lives.

I’m sharing this today because, well, I’m a writer.  This  is how I heal.  I attempt to put my ache into words. Today,  I want you to know, that if you are missing someone, especially if the wound is fresh, I’m so very sorry.  As much as we know that death is part of this life…it really doesn’t make it any easier, does it?  But, my hope today is that if that ache threatens to consume you that you will choose to run straight into His outstretched arms.   Because I know from experience that He can overwhelm you with a peace, and a comfort, and a joy that this world is incapable of supplying.

This morning, I also thought about the very last scene in Shawshank Redemption when Red is finally reunited on the beach with his friend, Andy.  The camera pans away as they embrace. I’ve always wanted that scene to play on and on.  I’ve always wanted to see more of that beautiful moment, not just a glimpse.

When I think about God’s promise in Scripture, that this life is not the end, I feel the same way.

I can’t wait to see more than just a glimpse, Lord.  I can’t wait to see the story play on.

I can’t wait to see my friend again.

“Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess because He who promised is faithful.” ~ Hebrews 10: 23

I read Jennifer Dukes Lee’s beautiful post on loss today on #TellHisStory and decided to link up.  If you have a chance, please head on over and read it.


14 thoughts on “The Day Beauty Will Play On

  1. bill (cycleguy)

    When my mom went to be with Jesus in 2004 I didn’t say “Good bye.” I said, “See you later mom.” I believe that is an important truth to remember. It sustains me knowing that someday i will see her again. thanks for the positive thoughts today Eileen.

  2. Chris Monahan

    Lost my mom nearly four years ago and my dog two-plus months ago. I am NOT comforted by the idea I will see them later.
    Worse, my coping mechanism is to NOT think of them because it hurts too much.
    It seems I haven’t gotten myself to the point where God is all I need, at least while I remain on this plane of existence. I hope to get there one day soon.

    1. Eileen Post author

      Chris, I really appreciate your openness. I’m sorry for both of these losses in your life. Four years is still so fresh a wound. I had that same coping mechanism of trying to just not think about it. And I used to just tell myself to “get over it” Personally, getting over it didn’t work for me. The loss became a part of who I was and who I am. And I guess I’ve gotten enough distance between the event that I am now comforted by knowing that one day we will be reunited. It still completely sucks that she is not here for me to call on the phone.

      Everyone grieves and deals with loss differently there definitely is no right or wrong way. And there is no timeline on healing. In fact, I think healing is life long journey. Praying that God will continue to comfort you in the loss of your mom and you four legged family member too.

  3. ~ linda

    I am so grateful that you stopped by Being Woven, Eileen, for I cam here and read every word of your post as I lost my 98 year old mother last January after caring for her for over 15 years. I just wanted to go see her earlier this week as I began tutoring twins in reading and Mom always loved to hear about this children I was teaching. I so wanted to tell her about the new kids I have. And then felt that feeling that she isn’t here. I talked to her anyway and know that she knows all about these kids. : ) Yes, I miss her very much, but I am doing alright knowing that I will see her again. My last words to her were “Good night, ….” God holds me near for He is my Comfort. Praising HIm this moment.
    Caring through Christ, ~ ;omda

    1. Eileen Post author

      I’m sorry for your loss, Linda. Thank you for sharing your journey. It’s a hard adjustment…getting used to a new “normal”

  4. Cindy Fincher

    I too have experienced grief and grief can come from many different circumstances. I love your statement
    “my hope today is that if that ache threatens to consume you that you will choose to run straight into His outstretched arms. ” THIS is so true Eileen. As we wrestle with grief the only true relief for our pain is in His arms. Blessings to you!
    Visiting from #TellHisStory

    Cindy@ smalltowngirl

  5. Dave Arnold

    Great post, Eileen! I love what you said: “I attempt to put my ache into words.” I am the same way: writing helps me process and deal with things. And I think the ache reminds us (and ultimately, pushes us) to remember that life is temporary and that God has designed us for Himself and Heaven. Thanks for this reminder 🙂

  6. Laura Robb

    Eileen, I read this post the other day as the familiar ache grew in my own heart. Your words resonated with me. This time of year is filled with sad memories and I miss my grandmother and other relatives no longer here. It can be hard to see beauty, but I so want to see joy throughout the holidays.

  7. Pingback: 2013 In Review | The Scenic Route

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