I awakened sobbing in the middle of the night and had been out of sorts and teary all morning. I’ve come to accept that some days in this grief are just like that.

I decided a brisk walk in the crisp morning air to Mass and back might help, but I still cried most of the way to church. The familiar prayers brought a measure of peace, but kneeling after communion, despondent, I prayed for renewed hope.

When I opened my eyes I saw a rainbow reflection in the floor. Enamored with its mesmerizing beauty I quickly grabbed my phone to snap a photo.

People sometimes frown on picture taking in church so I thought perhaps I should have waited until after the final prayer. But when I looked, already the brilliant colors had disappeared. After the final prayer would have been too late.

I’m surprised at how well my phone camera captured the colors. Yet, this image of the rainbow reflection isn’t quite the same as being there. The qualities of light make it alive in a way that cannot be captured fully.

I face a similar frustration in trying to convey the loss of Evan. His life can’t be captured in words and images, even videos where I hear his voice are just snippets – completely other than being in his presence.