Ok. Before I get mired up to my eyeballs in what will probably be a mess, I want to make a few things perfectly, abundantly clear.

1.   In this particular instance, I do not care about this woman’s political leanings. That is not the point of this blog.

2.  In this particular instance, I do not care about this woman’s religious beliefs or practices. That is not the point of this blog.

3.  In this particular instance, I do not care about the World War that seems to have been precipitated by the situation. That is not the point of this blog.

Now that we hopefully understand each other, I shall offer a bit of history so the point I do wish to make is perfectly, abundantly clear. Unfortunately, that history is going to touch on the two subjects I was ALWAYS warned to stay away from by folks far wiser than I—politics and religion.  Hence, caveats one and two.

At the Democratic National Convention, someone deemed it advisable to have the parents of Humayun Khan appear on the stage and address the delegates. This young man was a captain in the Army who died 12 years ago in Iraq, the result of a car bomb outside the gates of his base.  I did not listen to his father’s speech just as I did not watch any of the news coverage for either convention.  But I did read the letter his mother wrote after the eruption of the aforementioned World War.

Her words are the words of every mother and every father who has ever been forced to relinquish a child to Death. And I want to be certain as many people as possible hear those words because they give voice to the agony that is a parent’s grief.

“ . . . every day I feel the pain of his loss. It has been 12 years, but you know hearts of pain can never heal as long as we live.  Just talking about it is hard for me all the time.  Every day, whenever I pray, I have to pray for him, and I cry.

“The place that emptied will always be empty.”

He was 27 when he died, but age doesn’t lessen the pain. It is as difficult to hand over your hopes and dreams when your child dies before birth as it is to watch them taken at age 20 . . . or 30 . . .  or 40.  No parent should ever be forced to bury their child; in the natural order of things it is unnatural for the young to leave before those who are so much older.  But Death has no reason to listen to our pleas—or to spare our children.

Death is the great equalizer, bringing in its wake unimaginable grief. The depth of that grief is not lessened by how much wealth you possess.  It is not affected by your station in life or the power or influence you might wield.  Death and the grief that follows are equal opportunity villains; they do not discriminate based on race, color, religion, sex, national origin, or age.  One thing and one thing only will determine the depth of your grief—and that is the depth of your love.

The post The Depth of Grief appeared first on Shackelford Funeral Directors | Blog.