Being an adult in the face of insurmountable grief.....Well, frankly, it is not a pretty sight or sound. It is quite graphic at times. The doors and windows are closed. Only the furniture could tell the story. Be thankful that it can't.
Recently, someone asked me how to do "it". I said you don't. At the beginning, the only choices are living or quitting. Living is a very loosely coined term in this context. It means you go from one moment to the next and aren't really certain how it happens.
Eventually, you raise the stakes to an hour, a half day, a day....No, I'm not up to a week. I sometimes manage one day better than the day before. For now, it is enough.
The "it" --which I am managing to accomplish better now--is the ability to put grief in a place inside of me while in public. This doesn't mean I'm OVER anything. It means I'm packing a load and feeling a strain. Somedays, I may show it--especially when the regular world is too demanding of my strength.
But, I try to be an adult about it. Try to be a sensible adult and spare others this ugliness.
Yes, this writing is extremely transparent. People with pain often don't have the strength to ask for help. I'll be brave enough to say please grant much comfort, space to breath, and love to those known as the bereaved. I've been blessed to have people in my life who do just this for me.
Much love to those people. They know who they are:)
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