cheating grief
December 16, 2012 § Leave a comment
It is too simple to say that my heart aches as a mother, I grieve as a piece of a greater whole shattered into broken pieces by an act of violence. In the days since learning of the tragedy in Connecticut I welcomed moments of darkness, apologizing for my blessings. Quietly my mind began inviting What If and Could Have Been among countless memories of mornings shared in my children’s elementary school, the teachers and staff I consider friends, of my own children trapped in a nightmare from which they could not wake. Then I imagined the unimaginable, until the immediate sense of suffocation shut the door to fear and grief refusing to hold them in my heart, forbidding them from my mind.
This grief is at once not my own and all of ours. I can ache with all the imagined pain of my nightmares, but I have not walked in the shoes of those relearning to breathe as they move through days whose meaning is misplaced. I cannot assume another’s pain, rather I must move within my home and community creating threads of compassion and kindness connecting broken pieces into something beautiful.
Casting out the shadows of sorrow I am gathering light, carrying a consciousness of Friday’s tragedy, accepting the responsibility we share as a community to be present and stand as witnesses. Intentionally, I am practicing small acts of love to cheat grief of its paralyzing fear. Hoping to honor the lives lost too early with lives well lived.
sharing grief
September 5, 2012 § Leave a comment
For as long as I can remember I have maneuvered around the emotional distress of loss. Even as a child another’s grief would suffocate me, reaching into the corners of my spirit leaving me physically spent. Uncertain and overwhelmed I am consumed by the vast emptiness of sorrow, hollowed and achy.
Yesterday in the company of a friend mourning the loss of her husband I tiptoed carefully around the perimeters of her grief uncertain how to lend support. Rather than tuck her heartache into denial and polite conversation she tethered me to the moment with honesty, naming her emotions and mapping her needs without placing a burden of expectation at my feet.
Our time together unfolded into a gift; her strength was greater than her sorrow. We spoke of her husband and children without apology and in her sharing I learned how to become a better friend by embracing her joy as eagerly as her sadness.
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