Sometimes I think that happiness is over for me. I look at photos of the past and immediately comes the thought: that's when we were still happy. But I can still laugh, so I guess that isn't quite it. Perhaps what's over is happiness as the fundamental tone of my existence, Now sorrow is that.
Sorrow is no longer the islands, but the sea.
Most days it is indeed like that. Of course there are innumerable positive aspects of my everyday life: seeing the boys grow up, doing meaningful work, living a comfortable home, talking with friends, having a supportive church etc. But these seem like just the islands, while all around lies the sea of sorrow. I'm working hard to keep the wheels turning in all the mundane parts of our existence, but the conviction or urgency has faded. Anything that's not life-threatening seems less important than it once did.
I hope there'll come a time, in this life, when the proportions change, when sorrow again like the islands. Yet at the same time I don't want to stop missing Jen or valuing the time that we did have together.
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