Grief

Grief has multiple personality disorder. You never know who or what is going to show up.

Today he blew in like smoke from a wildfire. Eyes tearing, throat burning. The gasp for breath, ragged and shallow.

I want to run, save myself from his consumption, yet there is nowhere to go or hide. His cloak is impenetrable. Surrender is my only option. Consumed I am.

Some days, he whispers. “Come, sit with me and talk, I’m lonely.” We share stories of wild times and all the crazy things we did. Watch invisible movies of our own beautiful love stories. A soundtrack so visceral, we cannot help but cuddle and sob. We know how it ends, and yet we can’t stop watching.

He shows up in messages: Delivered by people, animals, clouds, a random song. They stop me in my tracks. I get swooped away to the very scene where I met grief. It’s not what you think. It never is…

There are beautiful days as well. Those are the best days! When grief arrives with balloons, champagne, and laughter. He is gentle, tender, nurturing. We dance under clear blue skies and bright sun. The memories bring smiles, and my heart overflows. We celebrate the multitude of gifts that were bestowed.

For all of you who intimately know Grief, I See you. I Hear you. I Hold you.

Today, I invite you to sit with me in reverence as leaves fall from the trees. Back to source. To become fuel for another life.

And so, it is...