I shall see her in a few months, or maybe in a few years, but most assuredly I will be with her again. There is no grief, there is no pain, there is only a glad tomorrow. Yes, I cry when she leaves, and I wander from room to room for a few weeks. When there is word she will return I clean and clean, and buy her clothes and talk and cry some more. If I knew she left with a man I didn't like or respect.
Weeks pass and there is no word, there is no hope.
That is real grief. Death is such a simple thing compared to this grief. You lose a child to death, and everyone understands your sorrow and shares your pain. But lose a child to Satan's grip and you are an island alone, buffeted on every side with such turmoil, such pain, sleepless nights, exhausted prayer, hopelessness. Only the older mother understands eternal grief.