Two years after the death of his wife, Daniel decided to take part in the mourning session (Halte Deuil) for his wife. Offered by the Notre-Dame de Montligeon Shrine, these sessions last three days. Driven by a need for healing as well as a more intimate quest, Daniel came in the hope to recreate some of the closeness he had enjoyed with the woman he had loved for nearly sixty years.
My wife died two years ago
Daniel comes from the small Normandy village of Bosroumoi, near Rouen. He has traveled some 100 kilometers to reach the Shrine. As soon as he arrived in Montligeon, he was struck by the warm welcome he received.
“I’d like to thank the reception team, who are very warm, as well as the priests and the nuns. They listen to us with interest and kindness.” This first contact immediately established a climate of trust and fraternity.
But he was mostly touched when he entered the basilica. Daniel lost his wife two years ago. He sat on one of the benches in front of the large statue of Our Lady Liberator and felt a comforting presence. “Just above it is a stained glass window depicting the Ascension of Christ. I had the impression that my wife was there, above me”. A feeling of peace washed over him.
“I felt serene, rested.”
The pain is still there
For the past two years, Daniel has been living with a wound that won’t heal. His wife’s death has plunged him into a dull, nagging pain. And yet, at Montligeon, something is happening that stirs him from within. “I’ll tell you honestly: the pain is still there. But after this stopover, I feel a little consoled.” It’s not oblivion, nor immediate comfort, but a real, tangible appeasement, born of prayer, the shared word and the teachings received.
He continues: “I really felt closer to my wife. Thanks to the conferences, I also learned a lot about myself – things I didn’t know at all.” He describes this discovery as an inner unlocking.
“Those few days allowed me to open doors and understand mechanisms that I didn’t even suspect.”
As he opens up, Daniel recalls the well-being he felt. “Sitting in this basilica, I feel good.” Such feeling both anchored him in the present and turned him towards the future: “I’m thinking of coming back here at the end of the year, for sure.”
Calling out to God
Among the lectures offered during the session, he was most interested by the theme of the passage from death to eternal life. “What touched me most was the teaching on death, purgatory and paradise. Before, I didn’t realize the importance of these realities. These questions had been with him for a long time, without any clear answers. “It was something that disturbed me”, he said.
At Montligeon, he discovered a response based on Christian faith and hope. “I know now that my soul will join that of my wife, for eternal life, until the resurrection.” Daniel now carries this conviction within him. “It’s ingrained. I won’t be so sad when I think of her.”
However, he does not deny his inner revolt.
“For the past two years, I’ve been feeling a real inner anger. I’m a bit resentful to God for taking my wife away from me.” He expressed this incomprehension for the first time during the session. A priest gave him a liberating word: “He said to me, ‘Cry out to God. Tell him you’re not happy. He’ll understand, and you’ll get even more.’ ”
These words released the expression of his pent-up anger. “These words allowed me to let go of something. I’d never say that my pain has gone, but this mourning break did me a lot of good.”
God unites us forever
Daniel and his wife have lived together for almost sixty years. Together, they have raised their children and watched their grandchildren grow up. Today, Daniel is about to become a great-grandfather. “The break-up was very difficult. Life with her was so wonderful.”
However, his hope goes beyond this earthly life: “I hope that in heaven, we’ll have an even more beautiful life. A life in the arms of Jesus and God.” This is not just a projection, but an act of faith. “God unites us forever. Even if couples break up here on earth, in God’s heart they’re always together.”
One of the nuns had words that shook him to the core. “She said to me, ‘Daniel, your wife is in the dormitory – the cemetery – her body is there, but her soul has gone up to heaven. And the more you love her, the happier she is.” This sentence turned something inside him upside down. “Since then, I’ve loved her even more. I’m sad, of course. But I’m not sad like I was the first day.”
A move towards healing
Daniel is convinced that this session has transformed his heart, opening it to a stronger love. And yet, he admits that the first step is not an easy one. “The first time, you don’t know anyone. It’s a bit intimidating.” But the simplicity of shared life quickly changes things. “We have meals together. And then, very quickly, tongues start to loosen. We talk about our dead. We can cry together.”
This shared brotherliness becomes a lever for consolation. “In two or three days, we feel as if we had known each other all our life.” He therefore encourages the undecided ones to take the plunge: “Try it at least once. The pain will always be there, but believe me: it does an enormous amount of good. This mourning pause doesn’t erase suffering, but it puts it on the healing path.”
Are you grieving? Like Daniel, come and share your grief and rekindle your hope at the Notre-Dame de Montligeon Shrine.
