“Paciencia no más.”

This whole thing is a waiting game. I will never forget the words of my father-in-law when I initially spoke to him after Josie’s death. . . “Paciencia no más.” That is what he said. In English this roughly translates to, “All you can do is be patient.” These words were comforting to me, howbeit a little odd. I did not fully comprehend their meaning or significance. 

I understand now. Try as we might, we cannot reverse what has happened. We cannot bring our loved ones back in the flesh. Only God can grant such miracles. . . And obviously it was His will for her to die, or He would have rescued her in the first place. Right? 

I wrestle with this concept over and over—the obvious reality that she is NOT COMING BACK. It did not fully hit me until about a year and half after she died. She was truly not coming back. Up until that point, I was in such a daze that somehow in my mind nothing felt quite real or solid. Trauma has it’s blessings, I suppose.

My father-in-law knows first hand the pathway of grief. He knows it’s a long, slow, arduous journey. He knows that at first it’s all we can do to take one breath at a time—minute by minute. In the beginning, that is enough. But he also knows we must keep going—for us, for them, and for all whom we love. He knows that by and by, we will meet our loved ones again on the other side, but for now, “paciencia no más.”