Fabric of My Soul

I was able to get some beautiful flowers for Steve's grave. His mom and I worked together on this project. We got a shepherd's hook and then a hanging black iron basket with that brown mesh stuff. I found a really pretty garland of mixed sizes and colors of flowers and arranged it in the basket. I used straight pins and a hot glue gun to anchor the flowers. I put it all out there today. There won't be a stone placed there until the ground finishes settling. For now, there is a wooden cross with a few flowers in front of it and the shepherd's hook with the basket. It looks really pretty. Tomorrow I should be able to put out some grass seed and plant a hearty version of a rose bush. I got permission from the cemetery person, and as long as I plant it by the fence (at the foot of the grave), it is ok. I have been thinking lately about this pain inside of me. It's not that it is unbearable or that it makes me cry a lot anymore. It is just always there. I was thinking of how to describe it, and I thought of this analogy. I thought of people being like a piece of fabric. Pieces of fabric can be joined together in a variety of ways...buttons, zippers, snaps, velcro, maybe even a seam sewing the two pieces together. Depending on how the pieces are attached, taking them apart would cause various levels of pain. For me and Steve, I feel like we were "attached" at a level beyond all that. It was as if the very threads of the fabric of my soul were woven together with the threads of the fabric of his soul. We became one piece. Now, this pain I feel is because he has been ripped away from me. There is a jagged tear, not a smooth edge, and it hurts. I know that God will heal the frayed edge, but I also realize it takes time. Still, I would rather have been woven together with Steve, and have to experience this pain as a consequence, than to not have had the experience at all.