Grief is a palpable thing. It crushes us beneath its weight. If left unchecked we can find ourselves buried along with the dead (either metaphorically or physically). Often we won’t even realize we’ve suffocated until somehow we crawl out of those dark depths. Then and only then can we see the sun.
As many of you know, I’m intimately familiar with pain and grief. Over the years I’ve had many losses. When my father died I was shocked by the level of grief I felt, how it hung on. Long afterwards, I’d see something that would bring back a memory of him and a sharp stabbing pain would constrict my heart rendering me unable to breathe. I rarely, if ever, do that now but I still miss his quiet presence during Thanksgiving dinners.
At one point on my path of pain, I’d lost my sense of self in an abusive relationship. Literally, I had to rebuild myself and start over. (A note to friends and family of abused loved ones—never diminish this pain.) Loss of self is simply a different form of death. If you’ve lived—you’ve lost, Continue reading