The Ghosts of Hidden Sorrows

She sits, staring silently through the pellucid panes. A world awaits, yet she sits, watching, safe and sheltered. Outside, joy awaits. An emotion she no longer trusts. Every encounter reveals the same thing. Her life is riddled with the ghosts of hidden sorrows. Dreams that linger reminding her who she once was, what she hoped for. What she lost. Ghosts, who only desire to remind her in every meeting, that time feeds the wound and doesn’t heal it.

She watches friends get married, build lives, knowing no one waits for her. There have been some, yet none at the same time. The doors hide their sorrows, too. She understands no life is perfect, and sorrows dwell at different times behind every door.

Sitting on the bench, she watches young couples walking hand in hand, dreaming of tomorrow. Planning lives that may or may not unravel. Absently, she brushes a tear away. Wanting something you don’t have is useless. It changes nothing. Gratitude is the key that unlocks the door of hidden gems.

Friends relay updates of their children’s progress at every turn. She smiles, offering congratulations, all the while her emotions tread water threatening to drown her. Happily, she watches them grow, smiling as they finish high school, graduate university and college, and begin their careers. She smiles as dating turns into engagements and marriages. Truly, she is happy for them. There is nothing pretend or false in her well wishes. Yet, the undercurrent of emotions always carries the ghosts of sorrows with it, threatening to erase the smile. Only her courage and faith push through until the smile appears. And always appear it does, even while invisible tears still roll.

The ghosts of a child’s possibility casually stroll by. One by one, they tip their hat and smile before moving on. They taunt her endlessly. She has named them the ‘could’ve gang’ for they always whisper, “He could’ve been, could’ve done.” It is an endless list. A game she desires not to play. Only sorrow dwells in the caverns of lost dreams.

Turning, she looks to another ghost where deep pain lives. No goodbyes, only absences forever embrace the aura of incomplete milestones. There will never be an aisle walk, wise word given, sound of praise to be heard. Only a leaving to haunt and linger in the shadows of regret. Unanswered questions continually linger until the time of true knowing arrives.

Some days it is too hard to paint the smile on her withering canvas, so she sits, sheltered, staring at the beauty displayed outside her window. It reminds her that the cycle is never lasting. The gentle breeze sings to the trees, causing them to dance. The simplicity of it all soothes her aching heart. A miraculous cycle of dying and rebirth surrounds her. Do the trees know their sleep is not eternal and they will wake come spring? Only God and the trees know the answer.

Peace fills her soul, for though there is pain, there is also faith and hope. God works miracles through broken people. He alone understands her pain and knows her ghosts by name. She holds His promise in her heart, using it to draw upon when the well is dry.

Rising, she wipes away the remnants of the last invisible tear, nods to the ghosts of hidden sorrows that float around her, and leaves. For with Him she is strong enough to face the day, greet the people and wish well for the world. Turning back, she whispers to the ghosts “Sorrow is not eternal, God’s love is.”

Friends greet her, smiling. Smiles, she freely returns with the promise of laughter surfing the ridge of sorrow that desperately tries to hang around before crashing into nothingness. Looking skyward, she closes her eyes and breathes deep of the life giving air. The valley of tears where the ghosts of sorrows dwell, shimmers and then dissipates, leaving room for joy, laughter and love. “Yes, God’s love is eternal,” she whispers to no one in particular.

 © Leslie C Dobson

If you liked this faith story you can find others on the Faith Stories link of Leslie’s website.