The Joyful Widower

The Elixir

Teach me, my God and King, 
         In all things Thee to see, 
And what I do in anything 
         To do it as for Thee. 

         Not rudely, as a beast, 
         To run into an action; 
But still to make Thee prepossest, 
         And give it his perfection. 

         A man that looks on glass, 
         On it may stay his eye; 
Or if he pleaseth, through it pass, 
         And then the heav’n espy. 

         All may of Thee partake: 
         Nothing can be so mean, 
Which with his tincture—”for Thy sake”— 
         Will not grow bright and clean. 

         A servant with this clause 
         Makes drudgery divine: 
Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws, 
         Makes that and th’ action fine. 

         This is the famous stone 
         That turneth all to gold; 
For that which God doth touch and own 
         Cannot for less be told.

–George Herbert

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a young person suffering a devastating loss is forever changed.

I am not the person I was before Melinda’s death. Nor am I the person I was before Tracy’s death, either. Both events left me with profound wounds, some of which I’ve shared with friends, others with only family, and others primarily with my priest. Along with the loss of a loved one there is a loss of, I don’t know what… innocence? naïveté? happy-go-luckiness?

A work of healing in my own life… Any time we had a wedding at St. Anne’s in the period after Melinda’s death and before my marriage to Tracy, I always directed the choir even though we had two other choir directors on hand. Though I’ve told very few people the whys and wherefores, the reason was that by directing the choir, I could have my back to the wedding ceremony itself. I could direct my attention to the work of directing music qua music, and do my best to ignore my own grief and pain and, yes, envy. But though I had been damaged by grief, grief did not have the last word. Last summer, just a few months after Tracy’s death, I sang in the choir for the wedding of a young lady (for whose baptism I directed the choir over 20 years ago!). I had nothing but joy in my heart for the couple as they began their life together. I give thanks for this work of healing that God has done in my life, that I am not the same man I was 25 years ago.

But grief itself doesn’t get out unscathed. Though I have been changed by grief, I have also seen that grief itself has been changed by the hand of God.

There is a camaraderie among those who have been widowed. I can’t put it into words, but those of us who have been through it can look each other in the eye and recognize the kindred spirit. My children have their own analogous experience. But when they have met other young people their age who have gone through the death of a parent, they feel a bond with someone who “just gets it.” Our experience of grief for the same person is different but adjacent. They have not lost a spouse, and I don’t know what it is to lose a parent (both of mine are still living). But our lives are mutually intelligible, to borrow a linguistic term.

My friends rejoiced when Tracy and I got engaged, but the joy I felt the greatest was when I shared the news with widows who gave me their blessing with shining eyes and joyful smiles. And now it is my turn; a young brother widower has recently gotten engaged, and my heart overflows for him, his young son, and his fiancée. I wholeheartedly and unreservedly shared with him my blessing for his joy. There is a common, awful experience we share, but that awful experience makes the joy something even greater and more meaningful.

Having beheld the Resurrection of Christ,
let us worship the holy Lord Jesus, the only Sinless One. 
We venerate Thy cross, O Christ,
and we praise and glorify Thy holy Resurrection;
for Thou are our God, and we know no other than Thee; we call on Thy name.
Come all ye faithful,
let us venerate Christ’s holy resurrection,
for behold, through the cross joy has come into all the world. 
Let us, ever blessing the Lord, praise His Resurrection,
for by enduring the cross for us, He has destroyed death by death.

Orthodox Hymn to the Resurrection

“Through the cross joy has come into all the world…” “This is the famous stone, that turneth all to gold…” God has entered into every aspect of pain and darkness of our lives, and by sharing in our life, by entering into even suffering and death itself, knowing everything we could possibly endure, He is there with the kindly eyes that say what no words could ever express. His presence transforms the unendurable into that which can be endured, not only endured but even blessed to become a source of joy itself.