So here's my contribution.
They say your presence is cleansing, cathartic...a severe mercy that allows the soul to recover from loss, and move forward into a diminished world with the confidence gained from having once had that which has been lost.
But there's a problem. Change and loss are a part of life, and grief is thereby sorrow at not being able to hold on to something or someone...the sorrow that attachment does not work.
And it doesn't. We have to let go gracefully, because we can't, under any circumstances, hold on.
That makes you, Grief, something like a second cousin to greed.
Everything in life is loaned to us. Everything will pass in the temporal world.
In the eternal, it all comes back, and we'll see that we never really lost it at all.
So, Grief, why are you here?
To give us the wistful sentimentality that sad songs engender? Are you here to inflict pain that we justify because "it makes us feel alive"?
Perhaps I see you differently now, because I have lived with death at my elbow, and am now close to death myself (or so the doctors say).
I don't need you. I never did, because God saved up everything good. It was never lost.
My wife does not need you. I will be waiting for her. Her life should be full, and you, Grief, have no right to tell her it's diminished.
So, Grief, no offense, but take your sad songs and sentimental slogans and wistful cards, and take a hike.
If you have the chance, won't you drop by my other blog, "Starting the Day with Grace"? It's a quote and short commentary that I hope will bring a touch of light into your marriage and your life.