On Grief
Dear Reader,
Grieving is on my mind today. It's one of those days where grief is present, heavy, and asking me to sit in its vast atmosphere of pain. I like to think of grief as a new lifelong friend. One that is quite unpredictable and erratic, though. But a friend nonetheless, that I learn from and grow with. Some days, this friend brings gifts, feels light, is easy to understand, and we speak the same language. Other days, this friend brings storms, whips around me with heaviness and confusion, and I don't understand what's happening. On all days, this friend is omnipresent. Always there, always.
I've noticed that in the last (almost) 3 years of being acquainted with grief, that any moment of joy is not really complete. I have learned that joy is still possible. It can even be frequent and easy to come by! But, the inevitable devastating realities rush in quickly. When my son was born, the happiest day of my life, the shadow of grief was present and heavy with the realization that my mom would never once hold him. When he said his first word, she wasn't there for me to call and get excited with. My joys are never quite as complete without her here to share and delight in them with. It feels wholly unfair and also like there has been some huge error in the cosmos somewhere. I remember for about a year, I felt as though my mom had just gone to the store or something that she would normally do, and she would be back soon. It was a persistent feeling of waiting. My entire being could not comprehend how my mom would not materialize somehow, somewhere. I still have a lot of trouble understanding it. She has been my home my entire life, and now? Nothing? How does that work?
A relentless truth about deep grief that I have come to intellectualize, but not fully realize, is that it is not something that will ever be completed. Not while we inhabit our physical existence on earth, anyways. Perhaps once we die, we reach the answers and solve the mysteries that this universe offers us, once and for all. Grieving, I understand, is the price of love. Not only that, it IS love. It is love that we don't even choose to be doing, it just occurs for us. The physical toll that grieving takes on us, is love. Which can be extremely confusing and bewildering- because why would love feel so painful? Questions for another day, I suppose.
This reflection on grieving is difficult for me. I don't want to be reflecting on this, and I don't necessarily want all of the insights and wisdom that my friend Grief brings me. I just want my mom.
Xo,
Annabelle