Out of the Darkness - Day Three

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If you’ve read blog posts from the past two days, you know I am sharing a short series of posts  containing part of the prologue to my manuscript Out of the Darkness.  The work is based on my experiences after my daughter’s death, and the spiritual crisis that ensued.  You can find Part One  HERE, and Part Two HERE.

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People came into her life and people left. Sometimes she dared to speak of the knowing to them.  Some almost seemed to understand and she would rejoice but they rarely stayed. Though not understanding this she came to accept it yet wonderings would come. “Do I know what I know or am I living a little girl’s dream that must be left behind?”

Once she gave her heart away completely, so fully she was SURE the knowing would be shared. It was not. She sought the comfort of the night sky. This time she questioned, “why” and begged for an answer. The stars simply danced alone above her. She bowed in acceptance but also in grief and bewilderment. Was she the only one who noticed that the stars danced and felt the comfort of the night?  The only one who knew for a certainty that there was more …

Time went by, her grief lessened and her heart slowly opened again far more cautiously than before, but the stars began to lose their wonder for her.  They were simply . . . stars, not pin holes of light enticing her to come and join them.  There was nothing really magical or comforting in them.   She decided she had simply been a silly young girl who understood little and had a large imagination. She took her dreams of dancing amongst the stars, wrapped them up carefully in ribbons and lace, and put them away.  Day followed day.  Month followed month.  Year followed year.

Her enthusiasm for her life waned.  She felt life was something simply to be endured. She saw no value in being under the night stars at all.  They were simply something to mock her and cause her pain.     

As her soul gave up it’s passion for seeking and being sought, her body seemed to believe her sense of destiny had gone and with it her mindfulness of hope. She began to waste away as if life were being drained from her molecule by molecule.  She grew thin and pale.  Her once joyful liveliness was gone and a suffocating nothingness took its place. 

One day, the emotional pain became physical pain as well.  Seeking out medical help, she was told, “We can find nothing to cause your pain.  You must be causing it yourself.” She sadly realized that still, no one heard her.  She found herself crying into the night.  Her body hurt.  Her heart hurt.  Her soul hurt.  Was there really no one who understood?  No one who cared?

To be continued 

 © deni weber 2010-2015