10/7/2020
There is no timeframe for grief. It comes one day, lingers through sunrises and sunsets, sticks around for another passing of the moon’s phase. Then, suddenly, it vanishes as fast as a gust of wind on a hot summer’s day. Relief. You feel relief, pausing to breathe the fresh air into the spaces that were tormented with pain. Grief. It is not your friend. It imitates comfort. Comfort warms the heart. Grief shreds it. But you feel, and to feel is to be alive. How long will it stay? When will it come again? You fear it’s knocking, but embrace when it enters because you know if you push it aside, it will attack you harder, deeper, and more unexpectedly. So you embrace. You open the door to it’s knock. You greet it as your heart pounds, fearing its power over you. You hug it in spite and you hold it. You can’t breathe. Grief‘s presence is thick. It brings memories you never want to forget. It’s crushing your windpipe and you scream. Grief is not your enemy, the pain is not your enemy, the sorrow is not your enemy, but it feels crushing even so. Memories. Their sets wash in. You ease into them. Taking one step at a time. just without the piercing stab from the piece that’s now missing from your life.