What If She's Missing Me Too?

C. S. Lewis' rants are unnerving to me, but one cut deeper than any other. He writes that little is known about the details of heaven. He writes, "Why should the separation (if nothing else) which so agonizes the lover who is left behind be painless to the one who departs?" One sentence takes it too far out of context. What he means is, "Is she missing me too?"

Up until now I have been self-centered with my pain. Self-interested and self-focused. What if she's where she's at, missing me just the same? I could not handle that. Still, it's selfish of me to be this self-concerned. She's the one that was robbed of life. I think she enjoyed it more. She's the one that suffered so dearly. The one that never gave up. Yet it is only me here tonight.

Lewis writes that even though others have died before his wife, for them he is able to pray for them, think of them, and be sure that they're okay. "But when I pray for H., I halt."

I no longer have to write this. C. S. has written it all already.