Blessing for the Dailiness of Grief
Sorry I am
to say it,
but it is here,
most likely,
you will know the rending
most deeply.
to say it,
but it is here,
most likely,
you will know the rending
most deeply.
It will take your breath away,
how the grieving waits for you
in the most ordinary moments.
how the grieving waits for you
in the most ordinary moments.
It will wake
with your waking.
with your waking.
It will
sit itself down
with you at the table,
inhabiting the precise shape
of the emptiness
across from you.
sit itself down
with you at the table,
inhabiting the precise shape
of the emptiness
across from you.
It will walk down the street
with you
in the form of
no hand reaching out
to take yours.
with you
in the form of
no hand reaching out
to take yours.
It will stand alongside you
in every conversation,
nearly unbearable
in its silence
that fairly screams.
in every conversation,
nearly unbearable
in its silence
that fairly screams.
It will
brush its teeth
with you at night
and climb into bed
with you
when finally
you let go
of this day.
brush its teeth
with you at night
and climb into bed
with you
when finally
you let go
of this day.
Even as it goes
always with you,
it will still manage
to startle you with
its presence,
causing you to weep
when you enter
the empty kitchen
in the morning,
when you spread fresh sheets
on the bed you shared,
when you walk out
through the door
alone
and pass back through it
likewise.
always with you,
it will still manage
to startle you with
its presence,
causing you to weep
when you enter
the empty kitchen
in the morning,
when you spread fresh sheets
on the bed you shared,
when you walk out
through the door
alone
and pass back through it
likewise.
It is here
you will know it best—
in the moments
that made up the rhythm
of your days,
that fashioned the litany
of your life,
the togethering
you will never know
in the same way again.
you will know it best—
in the moments
that made up the rhythm
of your days,
that fashioned the litany
of your life,
the togethering
you will never know
in the same way again.
But I will tell you
it is here, too,
that your solace lies.
It will wait for you
in those same moments
that stun you
with their sorrow.
it is here, too,
that your solace lies.
It will wait for you
in those same moments
that stun you
with their sorrow.
I cannot tell you how,
but it will not cease
to carry you
in the cadence that has
forever altered
but whose echo will persist
with a stubbornness
that will surprise you,
bearing you along,
breathing with you still
through the terrible
and exquisite
ordinary days.
but it will not cease
to carry you
in the cadence that has
forever altered
but whose echo will persist
with a stubbornness
that will surprise you,
bearing you along,
breathing with you still
through the terrible
and exquisite
ordinary days.
And
I realized that my days are full of solace and grief. Beginning the
day with morning pages and reading a blessing like this brings me into
that room of deep sadness, loss, regret. I sit in if for a while and
experience it all.
And
as I sat there - having written a little something - I get a text from
Wendy - "Do you want to have lunch?" And the solace is there. Saturday
Kacey and Alyse came over and we four (with Audrey) played many games
of pounce, sky jo and 500 rummy. Snacking on pizza and popcorn and just
having fun. I thought I would share this picture that Alyse took of
herself pulling her hoodie up around her. It is now on my phone. I
think I will tell people my granddaughter is a frightened Muslim woman -
or is that only funny to me?
And I continue to remake my home. Here is a pic of the new bed in the new spacious bedroom.
And
as I wrote the word spacious this morning I added to it - empty. And
that is it - grief and solace, sadness and laughter, spacious and
empty. I live in and out, up and down, back and forth.
But I live.
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