There are many losses we have in life. Sometimes I hear of tragic stories, people who have such devastation occur in succession. Often, I have wondered how do these souls manage to get up everyday. I never have given thought to my life having grief.
Frankly, I never have understood what the term 'grief' meant. Until, it hit me like a tsnaumi and I fell hard. A complete wipeout as one might say.
Since 2008, I have loss my mother quite quickly to ovarian cancer, my marriage crumbled to dust and my father left after a lingering bout of alzheimers. Being of a rather dark humor I managed to navigate and land on my feet after my mother passed and my marriage was erased. Or so I thought, than my father died and the wave grew immeasurable heights.
Quickly, at the bloom of last year's spring the wave grew and grew until the roar sent me running in many directions though none seem to cover me from safety. After work each day, I found a pair of pj bottoms and placed them upon my horizontal body. Laying still and rather comatose until sleep took me away. Daily, each choice became an unknown bathed in fear. "What if I made a mistake, what would they say?" "what if I fuck up" what if, that unknown became so immoblizing it sent me to a therapist for grief.
All of these things I was feeling were normal. For though not many mention it, Grief is a like an invisible spiderweb that wraps its sticky self inside and out so carefullly that you have no ideal how or when it happened. You just keep trying to unwind yourself from it and you keep finding yourself so deeply swarthed in it that you fall in confusion. At least that is my experience.
I imagined being a large boulder cliff whose parts just started dropping off slowly, and than quickly. No foundation to keep me steady. Each day became a blur, and nothing I ever enjoyed brought joy. My fabric was torn deeply and I soon discovered through many payments to my therapist that my landscape was never going to be the same. For Grief changes you and rearranges every thing you ever knew to be true into a category entittled "I am not sure". Although, I could manage the job and driving- love and excitement, understanding simple phrases in books, sex all those vitals that add to your heartbeat suddenly they stopped and I found myself alone and listless on a green couch.
I am not sure what has happened, but what I do know is, that grief has allowed me to feel others pain. When they speak about emotions or tell me a story my eyes spring with wetness. For I seem to understand much more now, the value of the human heart's well. How deep and precious it all is and how we as souls need to relate and connect only through our hearts.
The ghost of the tsnaumi still rides with me, everyday I have found myself greeting its arrival. "hello to you grief" I sometimes say, acknowledging that is it part of me. Though I would not call Grief a wound, for wounds are formed from bad things, from thoughtless occurrences. No, Grief is not a wound. Its a passage that you go through on this course of life.
Ah, but its a taboo. For one never says aloud "damn this grief is wiping me out". I often have felt during this time, could others not feel this or have this in their life? For often we go through our days in and out and speaking and laughing but how often do we say 'God damn this grief, do you know what I mean?" There were times, my behavoir was questionable. Like one day in a parking lot in which I found myself sobbing and telling my parents to fuck off..strange for I missed them desperately. There was a day when I thought of my former husband and how awful he had been and I found myself thinking of ways to disenage him completely from my life. But than I realized that is what had happened already thus my feelings of complete betrayal. All these things, they are normal. For Grief is like that, it tears through all your emotions sane or normal or not. It uproots every ideal and feeling you have about a subject or person. Your review every choice past and present with much more of a sense of meaning. It wrang me out like wet rag, twisting me all around. And than it dropped me into a new place.
So, today its sunny. I live in a new town and have new people in my life. I am out of the PJ bottoms and into clothes, I have better days than not where I can register thoughts and emotions on a more even keel. I am no longer loud, not as vocal much more observant than I ever was before it hit me. My ignorance of others who I suspect have crossed that threshold has now changed to somewhat of a reverence, understanding how sacred it is for us to have survived the losses. And one, can never define how great your loss maybe.
For its your soul that marks these things like a hieroglyphic, etching your life's journey for someone else to come upon.
"Officially, I am an orphan", that is what I remember my mother saying after her mother had passed. She was standing at the sink and the afternoon light was upon her face. She looked sad so very sad. I thought it was a bit dramatic than but than what did I know at 28. She was the age I am today. The fact that she would ever not be was not possible in my realm. Although, my parents spirits live on in myself and my siblings. I can see them appear in a brother's eyes and the phrases he might toss about. I can see my father in my sister when she raises her dark brow in question. No, I am not an orphan just a woman who is now surrounded by spirits who are alive and well.
Grief, its such an unattractive colorless word. Yet, its meaning is quite clear. Distress, deep distress. That is how its defined. I would like to add that Grief, though of distress is also a powerful tool that dismantles and rebuillds you. It gives you a deeper soul and a open heart of gratitude for life. I can imagine no greater gift, my only regret is the price you have to pay for it to send it's wave your way.