Woman this is your son.
This is your mother .
He looked to the soon darkened sun.
And the Stabat Mater.
The cost of love is suffering.
We love though it brings pain.
Lamenting and weeping.
Always we reach the end of the lane.
Because we all die .
Without suffering if lucky
Every knot will untie.
But not alone if lucky.
So look after each other .
As we were looked after by our mother.
————-
In death do we die
We cannot know the answer
We have each other
—————-
See John 19: 25-27