Sitting with Grief

I asked Grief what she was still doing here. It had been some time since I lost someone I loved. Grief looked at me and didn’t say anything. “What are you trying to tell me?” I asked. She just looked at me. I didn’t know what to say. She gave me an almost imperceptible nod, and a gentle smile, as if to encourage me. To look inside.

I felt Grief at times as much as I did in the beginning. I wondered when the pain would lessen, or if it ever would. The love I felt was so deep that it broke my heart, because someone I loved was no longer here.

Grief just sat with me, and I sat with her. Her presence was sometimes overwhelming, but sometimes she just let me. She let me be. She let me feel the longing for one more conversation. One more moment together. One more chance to say the things left unsaid.

Sometimes she sulks because she knows that I feel so heavy inside. Sometimes she encourages me to take stock, to focus on what is important, and to let go of what is not.

She makes me feel sadness. She makes me remember. The goodbyes, the moments we shared, the memories that suddenly return, the things I wish I had done differently. The moments when the absence feels almost unbearable. The mornings I woke up with my heart aching inside, like it was literally breaking, as though a piece had been taken away.

Grief, she was there, always, lingering, watching me.

Cautious, wondering, reflective. But never harsh. Gentle, compassionate. More than I could be with myself at times.

Because life goes on, and so should I. Right?

Grief was ever so confronting.

When I tried to shut it all out, she let me feel the presence of someone I loved.

When listening to a familiar song. Remembering a conversation. And I just laughed, because I remembered something silly that had once made us laugh together.

Yet, here I was, sitting with Grief, taking stock of what time had done. Life had continued, with its ordinary days and unexpected challenges. Staying too busy for Grief, but she stuck around.

Me trying to pick up life, stumbling at times. But through it all, Grief held me together, sometimes a pest, a companion that wasn’t always welcome, but one that stayed with me through it all.

I don’t think I can say goodbye to Grief yet.

Grief may be a companion for many more years. And most likely she and I will be together for the rest of my life. Sometimes I question Grief. And now, I turn to her once again.

“Why did this happen? What are you still doing here?” As if the answer can give me some comfort.

Grief finally speaks. Her voice soft and gentle.

“I am here to stay by your side. I want you to feel. To feel the difficult feelings that make you cry. The feelings of regret, of longing. The love that will never go away. Because that is who I am.

I am here to support you through it all. To remind you that the precious moments you shared will always matter, and that the moments still ahead of you matter too.

So if you want to cry, cry. If you want to scream, I’ll scream with you. If you need a shoulder, rest on mine.

And through it all, never forget. To live Life. To love. Infinitely, unconditionally.

I am not here to try to make you forget, or to be strong. To keep it all together.

I am here to remind you that love will never end.”