How Am I?
Last week’s post skimmed the surface of a deep-dive topic.
In some ways, the question “How am I?” is a question relevant in the aftermath of any significant trauma or loss.
The bloggers on Widow’s Voice come forward with how life looks and feels for them in hope that you might find something that speaks to your journey. Your life.
Dive in.
Take what you need.
Leave the rest.
How am I?
The question this week is answered with a poem.
Moving toward my fourth year as a widow, I am feeling more confident, although Grief has a way of still surprising me. This thing called Grief is unique to each individual. The coping for one may not fit another; nor the timing of healing.
One thing is universal:
Paying attention helps.
Today’s post demonstrates a deep truth for me—writings from other grievers often give me comfort.
For Grief | John O’Donohue
When you lose someone you love,
Your life becomes strange,
The ground beneath you gets fragile,
Your thoughts make your eyes unsure;
And some dead echo drags your voice down
Where words have no confidence.Your heart has grown heavy with loss;
And though this loss has wounded others too,
No one knows what has been taken from you
When the silence of absence deepens.Flickers of guilt kindle regret
For all that was left unsaid or undone.There are days when you wake up happy;
Again inside the fullness of life,
Until the moment breaks
And you are thrown back
Onto the black tide of loss.Days when you have your heart back,
You are able to function well
Until in the middle of work or encounter,
Suddenly with no warning,
You are ambushed by grief.It becomes hard to trust yourself.
All you can depend on now is that
Sorrow will remain faithful to itself.
More than you, it knows its way
And will find the right time
To pull and pull the rope of grief
Until that coiled hill of tears
Has reduced to its last drop.Gradually, you will learn acquaintance
With the invisible form of your departed;
And, when the work of grief is done,
The wound of loss will heal
And you will have learned
To wean your eyes
From that gap in the air
And be able to enter the hearth
In your soul where your loved one
Has awaited your return
All the time.This poem is from John O’Donohue’s book of blessings called “To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings.”
Keep going, my friend.
You are not alone.
