At my wife’s “Celebration of Life” ceremony perhaps 60 or 70 attendees shared their loving connection to her. At the reception that followed I greeted the attendees at the entrance. They show great empathy and assured me that knew what I was going though. Such assurances came from some folks I don’t remember seeing before. It was really nice, but something was not quite right. I figured that out on my way home. I’m fairly certain that these wonderful people — while caring deeply — did not experience the loss of their spouses. Caring yes, but it’s not the same. “The only source of knowledge is experience.” (Einstein)
A week later, while on my daily walk, a women I barely knew, but knew she lost her husband a few years ago, a runner, on the other side of the road, exchanged waves with me. A couple of minutes later, I felt a tap shoulder. Turning, our eyes met, not a word spoken, and tears expressed what words could not. The incident took less than a minute. We both turned to resume our “exercise.” I was weeping a combination of sorrow combined with joy. I felt flooded with love. This experience did for me what neither the Celebration of Life nor its reception had done for me. For a bit, I was not alone, our unspoken connection meant more than words.
Joseph Campbell was asked if he had faith. His answer was “No, I have experience.” We, who lost our spouse, we have experience. Or as from above: “The only source of knowledge is experience. ” ( Einstein)
As usual, this stuff is mine, perhaps yours also, but your feeling and experiences are most likely different. I suspect there are as many experiences as there are lovers who are “alone again.”