Blue Barn Farm

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Sometimes Grief

samuel and andy at ten

 

Sometimes grief sneaks up on you and stares at you in the face of a ten year old boy, looking at a photo of his deceased father when he was ten. That smile. Same smile. Same hair that sticks out all over. And you know that the boy now, looks at the boy then, and sees a piece of himself; and feels something like what home must feel like after having been gone for a very long time.

Sometimes grief looks so mean and cold because you can’t seem to face old friends. And it’s not because you’re trying to forget, how could you ever do that anyway…it’s because it’s hard enough to breath without the reminder of what was, of who was, and how things used to be.

Sometimes grief looks a little like joy and people congratulate you because you’ve moved on…which seems so very incomprehensible because all of it is so wrapped up together that you could never “move on” at all. Just as there are people who learn how to run again after losing a limb though the limb never regrows.

Sometimes grief is shockingly dark and cold, which makes the warmth of the sun feel so much more rich and full.

Sometimes grief is confusion. The pieces of you seem scattered and hard to recognize. After some time you realize you were trying to see yourself through the lens of the person you lost, which is impossible. So you have to learn to see again, and when you do everything is different.

Sometimes grief is a secret. No one knows that you live with the darkness because there is no place for discussing such things so long after the loss. Yet, the secret pain of it makes you softer.

Sometimes grief feels like weakness. Especially, when people tell you how strong you are. How can strength feel so fragile? And why does strength sometimes feel like a betrayal?

Sometimes grief is common. We all carry it with us in different ways. Yet the commonality doesn’t make the experience of it the same in any two people. Strange that way.

Sometimes grief becomes a part of you. No more remarkable than a freckle you’ve grown accustomed to seeing in the mirror. It just is. It settles into you so that you no longer want to go back to what was “before” because it would mean losing who you are now.

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4 comments on “Sometimes Grief

  1. Lindsay's List
    April 27, 2014

    i love you.

  2. Joyce Wright
    April 27, 2014

    This is wonderful written, I am sharing it on facebook as I have several friends who really need to read it.

  3. Roger Valdivia
    April 28, 2014

    awesome !! definitely a keeper.. miss you guys !!

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This entry was posted on April 27, 2014 by .
Sanae Ishida

This WordPress.com site is the bee's knees

Wiksten

This WordPress.com site is the bee's knees

Made By Rae

This WordPress.com site is the bee's knees

skirt as top

suō ergo sum :: i sew, therefore i am

Night Knitter

another knitting and sewing blog

probablyactually.wordpress.com/

where i talk about the stuff i make

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