by Kahlil Gibran
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Grieving the loss of a child
The unimaginable, the most painful loss in One’s life.
Some words, some art, some activities, some humans, some animals, some forests, some oceans may at different times offer comfort, some may not and that is expected.
The journey with grief is lifelong.
The waves of pain come and go, with different intensity and different frequency over a lifetime.
Surviving then living then thriving then giving is a unique path.
The above poem by Kahlil Gibran has brought comfort to me over the years and still does today.
I hope it touches you too.