Terri Casey's Reflections (Brian's Vigil)

Whenever we lose someone we love, a favorite poem by Emily Dickinson runs through my head. It goes like this:

THE BUSTLE IN A HOUSE
The bustle in a house
the morning after death-
is the solemnest of industries
enacted upon this earth:
the sweeping up the heart
and putting love away;
we won't be want
to use again
until eternity.

As a mother, I knew some of the depths of Brian's pain. And now I am feeling a vast sense of relief that he is at peace - asleep in his fathers' arms.