Grief shows up in the strangest ways.
Sometimes it’s eating a whole bag of Cheetos – in one afternoon.
Or maybe it’s instigating a huge argument with your spouse over whose turn it is to bathe the kids.
It might be popping a few Advil because your head won’t stop pounding
Or maybe it’s crawling into bed at 8:00 p.m.
and not getting out again until noon the next day.
Sometimes it’s serving cereal for dinner
Seven nights in a row
Or having that extra cocktail
Even though you have to work in the morning.
Sometimes it’s organizing your whole entire house
All of the closets and cupboards
And making 10 trips to Goodwill
Just to avoid thinking.
Sometimes it’s actually sitting down
And turning on a song
That you know will ignite the waterworks
And soaking in the pain
Rather than tapping your feet to the joyful beat.
Grief is a strange & unpredictable force – like a river that rages at times and calmly flows at other times.
It’s a part of us, the river, part of the experience necessary for life – as is the boat we cling to as the water bends us to its will; the boat that provides safety or is it, perhaps, captivity?
We could choose to row towards land; exit the boat & sink our weary feet into the mossy ground. Maybe even build a home – create a life with someone we love. A life beside the waters with the boat docked at shore; remembering our time on the river and grateful that the boat no longer serves as a life preserver or a prison. We might learn to dance again; slowly allowing our feet to reclaim their joy, a dance beside the cool, calm stream; a dance of remembrance and thankfulness as the river continues to ebb and flow.
There is a time for everything
A time to weep and a time to laugh,
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
Just keep livin.