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The Widow

She had the strength and honesty
to stand before her grief.
Brought up in a Christian household
though she’d been, she didn’t allow belief
to parade as knowledge. Unfold
grief would, quietly, in all its force.
Treasure all the more she would her time as wife;
her memories with him assumed a sharper glow.
But she wouldn’t say he’s relishing an afterlife
or that he’s at all. She didn’t know…
She had the strength to go on living
as though he were still by her side,
without invoking his specter standing
by God’s or Gabriel’s side.
I respected that she stood before her grief –
grief sometimes the friend of
stronger empathy and love –
but not the false confidence of belief.

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