Grief
Much Ado About Nothing:
“Every one can master a grief but he that has it.”
(Act III, Scene II, Line 26)
I have been away from the blog. It wasn’t for lack of ideas. It’s a hard thing, this grief. We all experience it and and there is no easy way except to hunker down, take it and go through it. There is no short cut, no clear, straightforward road. You just take it and hack out your own route. I don’t think we are given a clear path to the other side of grief.
About three months after her, my Aunt’s, passing, things were settled and grief finally cracked that thin veneer of focus. There came a day when I wanted to call but couldn’t and that was the final blow, actually, it was just a tap, of the quarryman’s hammer. My mental armor cracked and fell away from the cliff face leaving the grief exposed.
Photos piled up but I was at a loss for what to write. I was not and am not depressed. I get out. I’m still curious. I’m still very active. Actually I’ve been unusually active for my ADHD-addled self. I have been driven. It’s been kinda horrible, this mania (But, boy howdy, did I get stuff done!). The minute I stopped moving I would think, and thinking was misery. Teddy Roosevelt said it best, “Black care rarely sits behind a rider whose pace is fast enough.”
To write is to think and I didn’t want to think, she was always there, in my thoughts. Even worse, I passed the 30th anniversary of the last time I saw my brother. As a matter of fact, it got worse in that every time I turned around I seemed to come up hard against the memory of someone I’d lost, of everyone I’ve ever lost. That was not fun. That was grief. God, please, let that be the depth of my grief. Now I’ve just got to bear the length of it.
Eh, I also read, a reading mind has someone else’s thoughts to escape to. One of the books I read was Virginia Wolf’s To The Lighthouse. It is about an English family and in it a main character dies. Virginia, was just so, so…my, her words cut to the heart of things. Some artists work make you a better artist in turn, whatever medium you choose, their work sets a fire in your soul. You are impelled to new worlds. Maybe it was the timing because that didn’t work with this book. After reading To The Lighthouse I felt I couldn’t write, what was the point? I had no words because Virginia Wolf had used them all, every one, and there was nothing left. There was no way I could arrange them into semblance of thought. I think some poet astutely said Virginia Wolf took all the words, put them like stones in her pockets and took them away.
Yeah. I got over that word thing. Myself got the upper hand, “Girl, you are too old to be so Emo.” Grief? Eh. Not so much. I’m not over it, no. The photo, ‘After the Storm’, I took it in August. It looks like I felt. There were things that I loved to do, I did them, I made myself do them, but their full experience, their full joy was just there, out of reach, on the other side of my grief.
The woman who raised me:
https://dunelight.wordpress.com/2018/04/11/three-bells/
We had a lotta fun together.
Sorry to read of your suffering: I hope it eases soon.
Thank you, it is universal, this loss. If we live long enough we all go through it, in our way, in our own time.
Your photo expresses your grief very well. You are only separated from the pain of your grief by the window pane leading to the realm your heart longs to be. Best wishes! Peter
Thank you, I should sell that photo to Alamay. I thought of many photos, hopeful spring, lovely summer sunset, but that one caught this feeling we have of disconnect. Thanks.
I understand. the pain of grief, it’s there everywhere you go. It didn’t take as long with my father since we were estranged. My granny had Dementia, as soon as she no longer knew me I started grieving. My gramps was and is hard, 8 years later. I’m over the trauma of not having him here, now I’m glad to be wrapped in great memories. My grandparents are two people I may never fully grieve. They had such an impact on my life. I was very lucky to have a beautiful rose bush and that was how I worked through some of the pain. Taking photos of lizards, ladybugs and anything else I could find. I hope you have something that while give your mind a break to just not think. Have a great day. You are stronger than you think.
When I am feeling sorrowful I turn to the words of a character in one of my own books (they have a life of their own!) who advised that instead of focus on the loss and misery there should be focus on the gain and joy while the loved one was here, be it animal or human.
Thank you, yes, I have worked hard to say and think, “I am so very glad to have even known them.”
I have tears in my eyes.
My sister passed in February. It was a blessing. She lived a very hard life and went peacefully. I couldn’t be there, but Pearl from hospice was. She called me and held the phone to Gail’s ear.
Pearl said “She reacted. I’m sure she heard your voice.
I said “Ask her if she wants me to come.” This would have entailed a 12 hour drive, pedal to the metal in February to North Dakota. Pearl asked and said, “No response.” I said “Does she move at all? Please ask her to raise her arm if she wants me to get in the car and drive.”
“No response.”
“I’ll take that as her answer. She doesn’t need me. You are there.”
She passed at 2:30 in the morning. I wouldn’t have made it.
It’s hard.
There are times in which we just have to do as we feel, perhaps otherwise we just would do the things we do without our heart in them. So although I cannot suggest something useful I only hope things are better, dear Kim, it is hard to me to come but you are always in my thoughts so even if you were not here you are indeed in me, each time when the light has a certain glow, the blue a special tone, or the breeze blows in a quite light way my thoughts sail to you.
I read both your 3 bells post as well as this…. I think you were lucky to have her in your life and raise you to be the person you are… God give you strength….
Thank you. ❤