There's an interesting discussion in the Talmud, an ancient Jewish writing. Those Jews had the custom of rending their garments - literally tearing their clothes - to symbolize the ripping apart that death brings. But the question was raised, after the period of mourning, could you sew the garment up and use it again? The teachers answered yes, but when you mended it, you should not tuck the edges under so it would look as if it had never been torn.

This symbolized the fact that life after grief is not the same as before. The rend will show. The next question was can you sell the garment? The teachers answered no. The rending and mending of our ife is ours and others cannot wear it.

No, we don't get over it. We change and grow. Our life has a difference which is ours alone. We can't "get over it" because that would mean that we were not changed by the experience.

***************

Dennis Klass,PhD. Webster University, St.Louis, MO

No, we sure don't get over it. But if it helps any, I know the loved ones who have gone before us are at a much higher and beautiful place than we can possibly imagine in these bodies of our's.

`I need to believe that or all the suffering, theirs and ours would be for naught.

I is so hard to 'get over' when all the 'firsts', celebrations, etc are happening wothout our loved ones. This certainly applies with any death.

Thanks Allfe, this is so profound. I have sent this to my family members that are still healing.

Our family is still going through all the first and it is ruff to put it mildly...

Those "firsts" are really heart wrenching. I don't know if you, tammi or smiles have tried/suggested support groups to your loved ones. That sticky at the top by Bobbi, useful sites..has some really good books and resource sights.

We are really never the same but we can survive it.

Alffe, thanks for the info...I hope that something might trigger some kind of peace for them. Right now they are still just living from minute to minute...it will be one year this July.

Please Ask

Someone asked me about you today.
It's been so long since anyone has done that.

It felt so good to talk about you,
to share my memories of you,
to simply say your name out loud.

She asked me if I minded talking about
what happened to you...

Or would it be too painful to speak of it.
I told her I think of it every day.

And speaking about it helps me to release
the tormented thoughts whirling around
in my head.

She said she never realized the pain
would last this long....

She apologized for not asking sooner.
I told her, "Thanks for asking."

I don't know if it was curiosity or concern
that made her ask.
But I told her, "Please do it again
sometime....Soon."

*******
by Barbara Taylor Hudson
Obelisk, Nov. 2003