Dear Grief,
I have tried for months to elude your grip, to avoid your suffocating hands around my throat. Despite the heat, I run on the sunny side of the street, while you dart and dance in my shadow. I distract myself with puzzles and escape into adventures, I drown out your nagging voice with loud music and noise, I pour myself into work and when all that fails I barricade the door and turn to TV, cupcakes, wine or sleep, all the time knowing in my heart that confrontation is unavoidable, and I must be prepared to face the loss of something I gave six years and so much of myself to.
You track me down in moments of weakness, you seduce me. I feel your embrace in the shower, driving in the car, in downward facing dog, after I hang up from a good talk, when I’m discovering a new song or walking to the office, and you suck the joy from these simple moments. Hot tears, the guilt over missed opportunities, the sudden sadness of knowing lost moments are lost and will never be repeated. I think, “If we’d just had a little more time I’d…,” and then I don’t feel like leaving my apartment. Most days you sit there on my chest, and I can’t quite get a full breath.
And yet, there is hope of spring. On some days I can push you aside enough to see, feel, touch, smell, sing, dance. In those moments of strength and insight, I know one thing, Grief. I will beat you. I am studying your moves, and I will master your dance. And when I learn how to let go with grace, I will write new choreography, and you won’t be my partner. Thank you, Grief, for the lessons you’ve helped me learn and the transformation you’re helping me to make. But I won’t miss you, my teacher. Not for a moment.
Respectfully,
Me
really want to see you.
E. xoxoxo
Cindy, your talent as a writer rivals that as a photographer. I can immediately identify with your feelings…looking at my own experiences through your lens, yes, but also somehow experiencing yours in a small way. I hope your writing this piece brought you some measure of solace, and some steps closer to “Spring”
best, Ernie
Dance, baby, dance. Spring is just around the corner.
I so sorry and troubled by your pain it feels palpable. While we all have to deal with our own feelings and experiences in our quiet moments we do not have to be completely alone. I know you have a network of good friends, that’s great but if you ever want another shoulder who has spent a lot of years dodging regrets and trying to understand missed life steps you need only to look my way it doesn’t need to be an IM in the middle of the night! Also I want to get your comments on some of my pictures if you would like. So my friend be well and get in touch.
I love the way the author/photographer portrays grief as a shadowy,persistent yet temporary companion. The photogarphs are particularly well done as they present external metaphors of an internal battle. The sense of being stalked by grief and responding with everything from cupcakes to dogged determination creates a vivid image of inevitable natural human chaos i.e.deep painful emotions rarely present themselves in neat packages!
Cindy…
I don’t know what to say…except, yes, that was me last year to the “T”…(no pun intended). But…here we are a year later, and I am finally ‘living life’ and having a ball…the time of my life actually….as I know you will too….It was hard, the hot large tears filled my cheeks when I least expected it, and at the oddest of times, my advice to you is to ‘go with it’, ‘get it all out’ and yes, the tears do come to an end…..one day you will wake up and feel 100#s lighter….and dance your way through the days and weeks to come……
I’ve been thru it, and out the other end of it…more than once, but something about this ‘end’, was magical for me…..
Love you, and miss you
barbara
Precisely what I was searching for, thankyou for posting.