Posted in Life. My life., Uncategorized

Grief

Sometimes it’s hard to recognize when you are hurting.
It’s hard to know why you are hurting, or where exactly.

Sometimes you know exactly why you are hurt.

Sometimes every part of your body, your mind, your heart is hurting because it’s going to be a while until you see someone you love.

Recently, my grandfather passed away.

I am in so much pain I want to curl up in a little ball even if that won’t help.

I want to cry. I want to cry all the time. I want to cry so much I run out of tears.

 

But I can’t. That’s the issue. I don’t know what to do with all of this HURT.

And it’s not anyone’s fault, I don’t blame anyone. I just want to know why and how and how to stop feeling this way.

How do I stop feeling everything so deeply and harshly but not being able to let it out?

Raymond Carver, my favorite poet, wrote short stories and poems, one that was entitled Grief.

Woke up early this morning and from my bed
looked far across the Strait to see
a small boat moving through the choppy water,
a single running light on. Remembered
my friend who used to shout
his dead wife’s name from hilltops
around Perugia. Who set a plate
for her at his simple table long after
she was gone. And opened the windows
so she could have fresh air. Such display
I found embarrassing. So did his other
friends. I couldn’t see it.
Not until this morning.

Raymond Carver
All of Us, The Collected Poems
Vintage Books

This poem doesn’t describe how I feel, but it might describe how others feel.

It’s scary to think that grief affects everyone differently, even if we all feel immense pain. Even if we all feel the same way we have to cope with it and let it out differently. The stages of grief cause us to do different things and be different kinds of people from the ones we want to be.

We just have to remember that everyone in some way feels this. You aren’t ever alone.

 

 

I miss you grandpa, I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t show you as best as I knew how when you were here.

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