Defining Grief
October 20, 2020
Grief has its own word
Because its not just about sadness, pain, crying…
I’m not even sure, anymore,
If it’s about healing.
Grief is a word
So short
Yet packed with the weight
Of all the words
And all the world
Torn from your fingertips
In one short, quick unforgiving taking.
It’s a sadness that lingers long after the tears have dried.
A sadness that emerges in the morning out of nowhere.
And you stop whatever it is you’re washing
And crumble.
And it comes again in the evening when darkness tries to cover up everything
But you continue seeing.
It’s a pain in the emptiness in the pit of your belly
A torturous tingle that trembles throughout your body
A numbness to things you were electric before.
Grief involves forgetting about everything else that matters
Yet continuing to do the things that need doing.
There are moments in grief when you are happy
Laughing even
At thoughts of things you did with the person you lost
Even at who the person was, at times.
And when the laughing ends
Your smile lingers
But your eyes are welled with tears
You’re wishing away.
As you begin to wonder
“Why didn’t I say this? Why didn’t I do that?
What was I thinking?”
You finally arrive at
“What is wrong with me?”
And so your grief becomes anger.
self-loathing.
Shame.
disbelief.
Isolation.
You cannot be in this world
This way.
But worse more
You cannot be with yourself
This way
as you are.
It is on your knees
That you find your breathe again.
Until, one day, you realize
You must do better
You have to.
And, so, grief becomes courage.
Commitment.
You take action.
You make progress.
You help others.
You feel good again.
Worthy
even.
And, you think to yourself,
For the first time in a long time
“I can do this.
I’m okay.
There’s a reason.”
You notice the hole in your stomach feels filled.
Your cells are vibrating at a normal pace again.
Your skin is once again sensitive to sensation.
And you walk down the stairs
and through your home
Steady and
stable.
You start to do the dishes
And it starts to sink in
The guilt.
You’re not supposed to be okay.
Not yet.
“Am I forgetting?
Was I good enough?
Did she know I cared?”
No tears come this time.
And you keep washing
Mind wandering
With all the ‘what ifs’.
Until you turn the water off
Dry your hands
And move on to the next thing.
Some strange subtle
Almost eerie feeling lingering.
But this time
You keep going.
And you wonder
If this, too, is your grieving
Or just a new reality of
living.