I found this quote, and I want to know what people’s opinions are. Writer Heidi Priebe on love and grief:
"As long as there is love, there will be grief. The grief of time passing, of life moving on half-finished, of empty spaces that were once bursting with the laughter and energy of people we loved.
As long as there is love there will be grief because grief is love’s natural continuation. It shows up in the aisles of stores we once frequented, in the half-finished bottle of wine we pour out, in the whiff of cologne we get two years after they’ve been gone.
Grief is a giant neon sign, protruding through everything, pointing everywhere, broadcasting loudly, “Love was here.” In the finer print, quietly, “Love still is.”
The true test of love is: does it transcend the material plane? And perhaps the true test of that is, does it last forever?
Qur’an 28:88 - “And cry not unto any other god along with Allah. There is no god save Him. Everything will perish save His countenance. His is the command, and unto Him ye will be brought back.”
A finite love is really just lust, romance. What Heidi Priebe seems to be doing is denying eternity, and thus limiting all love to finiteness, thje material plane, and thus showing love to be whistful, romance. Love of the finite material is also effectively Lust, i.e. corporeal, plus it comes amd goes.
But this isn’t true Love - that is infinite and can only be attained via God i.e. for his sake.
This passage by Heidi Priebe presents grief not as an absence of love but as its natural continuation—love transformed by loss. It suggests that wherever love has existed, grief will inevitably follow, because time moves forward, people leave or pass away, and life rarely concludes its chapters neatly. This is the experience of anyone who has lived in loving relationships with people. Our grandparents are often the first source of love to pass, and gradually our parents leave us too. Numerous friends and acquaintances might not die, but move on, leaving happy memories to console us.
The imagery—empty spaces, remnants of shared moments, lingering scents—emphasizes how love imprints itself onto the world, even in absence. Grief becomes a testament to love’s presence, a neon sign that declares, “Love was here,” and in a quieter, more enduring way, “Love still is.” I have often visited places where happy memories arise and have seen the shadow of those times in my mind’s eye, and the ghostly laughing and singing still echoes.
Grief is the reaction to separation and comes from the Latin gravis, meaning “weighty.” In 13th Century England, it meant hardship, suffering, pain, even bodily affliction, which perhaps explains why it sometimes feels like an amputation when a partner dies. The whole that had become part of our lives is suddenly missing and we struggle with what remains.
The passage is a deeply poignant and poetic reflection on how love and loss are intertwined, with grief serving as both a marker of what was and a quiet assurance that love remains, even in its transformed state.
@Bob can i ask what you have added to the topic? Your text reads like AI output. This is not an insult. I have railed against AI text long before l ever set eyes on your good self. I’m genuinely trying to extract meaning from your words. Teach me something l did not know, my good man, impress me, titilate me. We can all regurgiate Rumi, Teresa of Avila, Gurdjieff, and scrunch them up into one eclectic avant-garde heterodox trangslobal transmogrified post-hoc existentialist epistemological ontologiwhutever post even (not that you did, not here anyway) but that’s just a bargain pocket-size book of inspiro quotes that nobody’ll ever read beyond an hour of getting home with the new acquisition. Have you actually lived the life you speak of? Have you lived? That is the question. Time’s running out. Have you lived?