She had no tears this morning. She had wept them all away last night, and now she felt that dry-eyed morning misery, which is worse than the first shock, because it has the future in it as well as the present. Every morning to come, as far as her imagination could stretch, she would have to get up and feel that the day would have no joy for her. For there is no despair so absolute as that which comes with the first moments of our first great sorrow, when we have not yet known what it is to have suffered and be healed, to have despaired and to have recovered hope.
The character experiences a profound sense of sorrow, having expended her tears the previous night. Now, instead of grieving, she faces a bleak morning devoid of any hope, feeling a deeper sadness that is compounded by the anticipation of more joyless days ahead. This emotional state is a stark contrast to the immediate, raw pain of earlier experiences, highlighting the heavy burden of enduring ongoing despair.
This moment captures the essence of what it means to confront enduring grief. It reflects on the exhausting nature of prolonged sorrow and the struggle to find solace in the face of unyielding sadness. The absence of tears signifies not the end of sorrow but an acceptance of a harsh reality where joy seems unattainable for the foreseeable future.
