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Birthing Love And Goodbye Love
“I promise you, Patrick, you won’t feel a thing”, assured the doctor.
Her father’s head lolled to one side, granting him the final opportunity to see his wife and daughter standing beside the bed. He reached over with the last of his might and took his wife’s hand. She bent over and kissed his forehead, whispering over and over again how much she loved him and would see him again on the other side.
“Hello, Lamber, hello, Dine” he murmured.
Sophia fell upon him in waves of sorrow and desperate thankfulness for his waking. She didn’t care anymore; she dived right into his chest and gave her father a last embrace from the little girl inside her…
…Love came home, and there should be a name for that type of love. It’s the opposite of birthing love, all joy and anticipation. Maybe its name is goodbye love. Or maybe it’s just love. Grief/gratitude. That’s what Sophia called it. On that last day, in the hospital room, when her father pleaded, ‘just make sure there is no pain’, I whispered to him. “Patrick, where you are going is a place where God is personally gladdened to see you, the angels celebrate your return, and it remains like that forever’.
— Aletheia Pistis Sophia
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