One Person’s Take

GRIEF

When this poem found me I wondered about its voice.

It did not come with an attribution; nor was it a product of that famous person: Author Unknown, or their closely related cousin: Anonymous.

When I want to share a poem, or a bit of prose, it is important for me to attribute the work to the author. This poem left me wondering who wrote it.

With my cursor, I copied the entire piece, pasted it into Google, and hit search.

The name Gwen Flowers came up immediately. “Hmmm. Gwen Flowers knows a thing or two about grief,” my intuition noted. Her words rang true for me.

When I discover words telling me about loss or grief I am careful; even skeptical. Some well-intentioned pieces are too syrupy for me. Or too simplistic. Often my mind rejects all or part of the reading due to an inner radar for what makes sense to me, or what awakens my curiosity.

Random quotes, prose, poems and stories continue to be an important part of my education in the school of life. For many reasons, I grew up with teachers who lived in books. Words have a way of finding me just when I need them, and

I come from a long line of indirect ‘written word’ teachers.

One of the first said, “Find the thing that terrifies you and then do that thing as soon as possible.”

Another said, “Don’t leave life until the candle of your living is burned all the way down to the metal wick holder.”

Words come to haunt me during difficult times, such as “While living, be fully alive.”

Thank you, Gwen. I seek my own treasure in your piece today, sensing that there are many ways to arrive to the same place.

Perhaps you, dear reader, have other thoughts when reading this poem. The writer’s words might awaken your own nuance (with a completely different meaning) and the gift goes on.

Each reading can bring new insights as our grief changes us.

Dive in with me now.

GRIEF

I had my own notion of grief.

I thought it was a sad time

that followed the death of someone you love.

And you had to push through it

to get to the other side.

Even as a small child, I had my own notion of grief and felt its sadness. I wanted to push it away.

But I’m learning there is no other side.

There is no pushing through.

But rather

there is absorption.

Adjustment.

Acceptance.

I, too, have learned there is no “other side” and no “pushing through”.

This morning I ask:

How am I absorbing the reality that my precious person is no longer within my sight?

How am I adjusting to the loss . . . to the mysterious way that I sense his presence in a new way and sometimes do not sense his presence at all?

What level of acceptance do I feel as I stand at the threshold of Year Three of losing my person?

And grief is not something that you complete.

But rather you endure.

Grief is not a task to finish

and move on.

The moments needing to be “endured” bring questions. Will life ever be “light” again? Will it always feel this heavy?

Another teacher said, “We do not move on; we move through.” This resonates for me.

Grief is not a task to finish

and move on.

but an element of yourself–

an alteration of your being.

As with all hard things in life, I sometimes surprise myself with who I am becoming as a result of this damn grief. Things required of me—things I HAD to do or say—they remain with me.

Grief has altered my being.

A new way of seeing.

A new definition of self.

Yes.

Bit by bit I am being made new.

“Keep going” I hear my teachers saying.

“Keep growing.”