Preliminary signs and sounds clearly told me to excitedly anticipate something--soon it would be bursting forth! The beautiful transformation started as soon as the firework was loosed from its container. Shockingly bright light pierced my darkness. Such heavenly joy I found, far above earth's gravity.
And then, bereaved, the harsh reality of the unrelenting and constantly returning blackness of this world's night set in --I couldn't even raise my eyes off the ground--completely unable to see anything beautiful again until a period of waiting time completed. Oh how I longed for more of the same beauty I previously so enjoyed! I did not want to wait!
My children had burst upon the scene so beautifully . . . but like fabulous exploded fireworks, enjoyed tremendously, but gone far too quickly. Photographs and videos were such poor recreations of what once was!
Early grieving for me was like having bottle rockets going off constantly in my head. Just loud, startling noise with no substance. I didn't know where they were going to come from, this annoying racket suddenly making me feel unsure and unsafe. Something seemingly as innocent as "sparklers"--those tangible items of theirs I'd come across (or innocently seek out)--caused me a surprising number of user-injuries. Sometimes there'd be unexpected huge booms, making me feel I was in a real war with life or death repercussions. How so much beauty was mixed with anxiousness!
Not until the fireworks show ended and the noisy crowd went home did I even start to think about the future again, this God-given hope I clung to of another round of beauty. My bereavement darkness finally ended, leaving me in constant, joyful anticipation. He that brought me such wonder would yet again bring beauty and after so much time waiting . . . likely a "new and improved" version. When Beauty and I reunite, this time there won't be any more darkness to disappoint or keep me from enjoying their presence with me . . . in non-ending, explosions of delight. Don't give up hope!
