Grief

Just as it is unrealistic for us to believe that we have anything to say about when someone we love should die, it is equally unrealistic for us to think that if we believe death is graduation into eternity that will take its sting away. The reality is nothing quite compares with the pain that comes when someone we are close to dies.

When Papa was dying, I prepared myself for what was to come: his physical absence, the loneliness, the missing, how different life without him would be and everything else I thought I should brace myself for. Well, I had absolutely no clue as to what the desolation was going to be. The briefest description I can give it is: I felt excavated. Where my heart was was a huge, cavernous hole.

God was my strength. The memories of our life together sustained me. But the pain didn't stop. My therapy was to write and write and write.

Grief is like childbirth
It will not be hurried,
It will not be stopped.
You simply have to ride it through.
The hurting waxes and wanes
Like labor pains
And at the end you find
Life all new.

Grief is not a river
That moves on to one space
From another
Leaving what is passed behind.
It is a whirlpool
One tries to swim away from
With one¹s full might
Only to find
In one unguarded flash of time
It can suck you back and down
To almost drowning
Losing all you had gained
In time and space
Making struggle almost vain.
Grief is treacherous
And deep
Tumultuous, turbulent
Swallowing
As the sea sometimes -
Can it ever be left behind?

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Unlike morning
Which happens everyday,
Grief appears when it chooses
And looses
Its tempest without warning,
Without your knowing
The storm will blow, going
Only when it¹s finally spent.

Grief is a thief
Who sneaks up behind you
And knocks you down
Running off with your peace.
You have not a whit of control
It simply snatches your soul
And tosses it where it pleases.

You have nothing to say
About when grief comes and goes
You are at the throes
Of its mercy
The onslaughts happening
Without rhyme nor reason,
Have no season.

I do not understand any of this
I only know I cannot go through life
Bracing myself for these encounters
Sometimes protracted,
Sometimes brief,
So from now on, when you happen,
I¹ll just welcome you, Grief!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grief is having your insides excavated.
No, not your heart taken out
For that is instant death.

Rather, it is disembowelment -
Having your innards ripped out
While remaining alive....

Grief is having an anvil
Where your heart should be
So heavy you can barely breathe.

Grief is purgatory or hell
Catharsis or damnation -
You decide.

Grief is a roller-coaster ride
A climbing, a plunging, a levelling-off
Grief is very rough.

I keep thinking that if I could dissect grief,
If I could take it apart,
It might stop tearing up my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Losing someone you love in death
Is like having the car you¹re in
Plunge off a bridge
Into the rapids below
And have the current take you
Down river, hitting the rocks
While the waters rush to engulf you
Leaving no air for breath -
Drown to death....

Except for this:
God "reached down from on high
And takes hold of me,
Draws me out of the water
And brings me into a spacious place.
He rescues me because
He delights in me."
Praise Him!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grief is heavy
A burden I cannot lay down
Nor unload
For it is the anvil where my heart
Is supposed to be.

Grief is unrelentingly there
Day after day.
It is not intermittent
Giving one pauses of rest now and then.
It never goes away.

Grief saps one¹s strength
Leaving one too weak to tackle
What one once could.
Incapacitating one from enjoying
What one once would.

One is helpless in the face of Grief -
Defenseless, fully at its mercy, at a loss....
One places one foot in front of the other,
Living what is less than life,
Trying to understand the Cross.

One goes through the motions
Of daily living seemingly oblivious
Of what is going on deep down within -
I suppose that is why I am so tired.
Grief is doing me in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My depression is simply the garden-variety kind,
not clinical, needing medical intervention.
It is nonetheless real and experiencing it, I find:

Depression defeats, deprives. It is drought.
The source of life is shut off,
the springs no longer flowing, the river bed bone dry.

Depression is darkness -
no sunlight to grow or see by,
no sun for warmth, no glow.

Depression is decline
No energy, no stamina, no drive
Just malaise, a falling, a going down.

Depression is death-dealing -
no more desire to live,
no hopes, no plans, no dreams.

I have also discovered
depression is a call to prayer -
the occasion to approach

God's rocking chair and climb
onto His lap
for Him to soothe me there:

He is the Source of life and light
Strength and hope, the Thrust
that gives me the impulse to

sing and wing and fling
my arms to embrace the universe
and reclaim my life again!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lord, enter everything in my life!
Enter my sorrow and my peace.
For my heartache, be surcease.
Enter my endeavors and my dreams,
my machinations and my schemes.
Enter my sins, redeem me;
my striving, sanctify me.
Enter my strengths, my flaws,
my sharing in Your Cross.
Enter my illusions, my realities.
Enter and stretch my capacities.
Enter my singing and winging,
my struggles, my falls,
the erratic way I answer your calls.
Enter my relationships, the way I love.
Enter every step, every nudge, every shove towards You.
Enter my darkness, be my Light.
Enter my absolutely everything
until every thing that has to do with me
Is You!