A Day of Silence and Tears

No sound is louder than the silence of the death of a loved one.

No sound can break through the shroud that envelops mourners in those days following a death.

Nothing can wipe the tears but the passage of time which only dries them up on the outside. On the inside they can be tapped at a moment's notice.

Such is the life of this Saturday between past and future, between a lost human hope and an eternal divine one.

The Great Sabbath.

Holy Saturday.

All is shrouded.

All is lost.

All is silent.