It is hard to believe that it has been three and a half weeks since I received the letter concerning my brother Lennox, the emperor of Agmar's death; it seems like it has been longer.
The arrangements for his memorial
service seemed to take forever, lasting for days, all the while
causing me agony and pain beyond words. Though from my fellow
mourner's and friends view I suppose I looked only subdued and
withdrawn with an aura of sadness overshadowing me but if they knew
what I felt inside it would tell a different story. I do not think
any one truly knows how I feel. Nor how deep my pain and hurt lies.
They give their sympathy but they cannot relate to my feelings; they
cannot be experiencing the excruciating misery that pulses through me
when I see the words they had written out and were awaiting my
approval before engraving them upon my brother's tombstone, nor be
feeling the heartache that filled me when I saw The Ruler come
into port without
a captain guiding it's helm.
My
heart is in turmoil and my feelings in
a riot but in front of them
not a tear came
to my eye.
Partly
because of my remaining shock of the circumstances that were
taking place and the other part because my
feelings are better left for the secrecy and solitude of my own
private chamber. Before
them I severed
any ties to emotions and
restrained
myself so extremely from
thinking of anything related to my brother to prevent any outbreaks
of tears or weeping in
public. Even when I was alone
in my own private chamber with my thoughts drifting back to days in
the past and I expect the tears to flow they would not. Maybe
bridling my emotions for so long had made
me insensitive and
locked up my heart so tightly
that not a thing
could bring a tear to form in my eyes. I
stood in front of my vanity
mirror, staring at my
despondent reflection. My
feelings were vivid and I felt my sadness keenly but no matter how I
hurt, my eyes remained dry and refused to yield to weeping.
That was through the heart of the
arrangements though. But soon afterward I was visiting the castle
chapel as I do normally the same day every week and the priest must
have seen my distress and detected my concealed emotions because he
approached me with a comforting gentleness and inquired how I was
doing.
He is a kind, elderly man, who's manner
is ruled with patience, understanding and wisdom, and his heart
filled with a love for serving God. He has been at the chapel for as
long as I can remember and in the past he has always made time to
listen to me and advise me on both matters of principles and
spiritual and I had never had any trouble divulging my thoughts to
him. Therefore if anyone in the kingdom could discern between my real
affliction and the false facade of being tolerably well it would be
him.
We had sat down in one of the pews
after sending my ladies-in-waiting away so that I could speak with
privacy, and I at once began to share what was on my mind to him.
He took on a quiet attentive manner as
I talked and when I finished he remained silent for a minute and
pondered the problem.
The priest had much to say in response
to my sorrow but one in particular stood out as extremely helpful.
He cautioned me against constraining
myself from tears because it was natural and necessary for proper
healing and that I should not keep them bottled up as I had
previously. My hurt would heal and slowly wan in the future but it
would take time.
The priest then listed a few verses
from the Bible that he thought would help. And since then I keep
those verses close to my heart and whenever I have days when I am
depressed and dispirited I read over them and receive comfort amid
cloudy days when the sun does not shine.
One of them that I treasure is Psalm
94:18-19:
“If
I say, “My foot slips,”
Your mercy, O Lord, will hold me up.
In the multitude of my anxieties within me,
Your comforts delight my soul.”
Your mercy, O Lord, will hold me up.
In the multitude of my anxieties within me,
Your comforts delight my soul.”
God's Word is a balm to my open wound,
soothing and healing the most festering hurt. In verses like these I
take comfort in. They remind me that God is right alongside me
through all my pain and that He cares for me and will not allow
anything so big that I cannot bear. Even when I felt so alone passing
through these trials I know, now especially, that I was never alone.
When the rain poured down and I felt like I could not remain standing
any longer I know He was there beside me, holding me up.
He will keep my feet from falling and
one day by His guidance I will reemerge from this dark cavern I seem
to have fallen in and enter into the bright light of day.
The tears do not come as often now, and
I do not attempt to restrain them any longer. But I must confess that
certain times they do rush back and as a flood. Such as last week
when I was calmly working my tapestry that I have regretfully
neglected for a long time now. All at once I noticed the particular
color I was using was the very same shade of turquoise blue that
Lennox favored and the hollow pit in my heart was felt distinctively,
as the tears in my eyes were also. I would not admit it to myself nor
my lady-in-waiting, Meredith, who sat opposite of me on the other
settee working on her own tapestry, but I insisted that my eyes were
tiring from the dimness of the light that the candles were producing.
Then another time came when I was alone
in the sitting room, reading and I heard someone arrive and then a
deep voice talking in the entry hall. Instantly my heart leaped and
the thought raced through my mind that it was my brother! I rushed to
the hall only to find my longtime friend Alessandro, relinquishing
his cavalier hat to the servant. I do not mean to imply that I was
disappointed in his coming to visit me because I enjoyed his company
tremendously and it was a much needed relief from my loneliness but
you can understand my crestfallen reaction.
There are many of such episodes but I
would not want to bore you with my monotonous details so I shall only
state those above.
But do not worry for me friend, I am
beginning to act like myself more each day and I take courage that it
will not be long before I come into the light of day again and
hopefully having learned a life lesson or two. But until then I am
just taking everything a day at a time, not looking anxiously into
the future, nor regretting past deeds, and learning more fully every
day how to rely on God.
Your prayers are still much coveted,
dear friend.
-Emerald
de Gavrillac
Queen of
Krespania