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The Death of Pope Francis on Easter Monday Hit Me Hard
The news triggered memories and tears for my soulmate’s final days
When I watched the footage this morning of the final appearance of Pope Francis on Easter Sunday, speaking his last words, I began sobbing.
I cried for the loss of the most compassionate Pope the world has ever been blessed with. But when I couldn’t stop crying, I knew it was more than his passing that hit me so hard.
Fifteen months ago, I lost the most precious person in my world with whom I’d shared some forty years of my life. My best friend, my lover, my soulmate.
I know that grief never goes away.
It’s a journey of healing the emotional pain, which becomes less raw as the months pass. I’ve adapted to being a widow.
I trained my brain not to dwell on my soulmate’s last days; to let go of attachment to those images and rather travel back in time to the days, weeks, and years when he was vibrant and healthy.
Why then did the Pope’s passing trigger such a torrent of tears?
