It rolls through with a life of its own.
Reminds me of waves at the beach. Some barely lap the shore. Some rip on in, larger than life. Occasionally, a sneaker wave comes in sideways: tears in the middle of Oliver’s Market or a lump in my throat so large I can’t speak while on the phone with a friend.
It’s all fine. Let ‘er roll. I neither try to push grief away nor invite it in. This visitor–this grief–is love. A different flavor of love, yes. Yet only love.
© Amrita Skye Blaine, 2012
This wonderful photo was taken by Greg Good, a friend from an internet deerhound list.
3 thoughts on “grief rolls through”
Ah, one of my favorite side effects of all that mindfulness, etc. has been learning to accept those tough moments with equanimity. I’ve had a harder time with the loss of some of my pets than with some of my family…
Me too, Leigh.
This has hit very hard.