My Letter to Grief

[More]

Dearest Grief,

You stormed back into my life unexpectedly last May.  I'd all but forgotten you.  The way you weight me down so that even the day becomes long and arduous.  How my heart turns heavy so that even food will not fill me.  Or the way I cannot climb out of the pit you pushed me into.  Last May was a little hard.  The summer you stayed with me though you were not so pesky or intrusive.  When the leaves fell and children collected treats in their costumes, you pushed me down hard.  You did not want to be forgotten.  That fall hurt, and Grief, I had not forgotten about you.  The pit became a little bigger.  You even gave me a Kleenex for the pond of tears I cried.  Each day became longer than the last.  Winter came and became the coldest, darkest time of my life.  You, dear Grief, you obliterated my core that morning in January.  You had no problem taking that phone call.  At the hospital, you clung to me like wet clothes, drowning me in a lake of loneliness and dread.  The walls closed in, panic set in.  Oh Grief, life was never the same after that day.  You were the first one up every morning.  you took over my house, littering it with guilt, shame, anger, sadness.  Always there, enveloping me.  Spring came and went with you by my side.  A constant reminder of loss.  In May, you made sure I did not forget you.  Though I somehow think you never doubted I would remember after January.  The days are still long at times.  Oh Grief, sometimes you take my breath away.  You still hand me those Kleenex, but also still try to fill me with the lead feeling of sadness.  We take turns, you and I.  Who is the boss in this house?  I have not forgotten you, Grief.  I never will.

 

Yours truly.

[reader]

Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us More.

[sadandlost]

Dear More,

thank you, that's so beautifully said, like a poem.

[More]

Thank you.