Glass cuts, as does grief.
We went again to the Compassionate Friends meeting.
There was a woman there whose grief dominated nearly the entire meeting,
as if the rest of us were not also hurting.
"It's just so sad," my husband says.
"It will get easier," the meeting leader man says.
I believe him.
But the woman whose grief dominated nearly the entire meeting,
as if the rest of us were not also hurting,
she does not yet believe him.
Sometimes you just have to believe.
Even when you don't.
Believe.
she does not yet believe him.
Sometimes you just have to believe.
Even when you don't.
Believe.
I wondered if she were you.
ReplyDeleteShe wasn't me, Cyn. I'm slow to open up. It's that I thought when I got out, "you know, we are all in the same boat, some of us should get to express ourselves too." And then I immediately felt rude and uncaring. But I'm not rude and uncaring.
ReplyDeleteI agree with you Diane, sometimes you do have to believe even when you aren't quite sure.... it's a statement of a hope that things will indeed get better.
ReplyDeleteIt's so hard sometimes, when the situation calls for compassion, and somebody drinks so deeply that everybody else is left thirsty.
ReplyDeleteIt will get better, for all.
Hugs to you, friend.
b
Yes, Lori! And I need all the statements of hope I can get right now...
ReplyDeleteIt will work out, Beth, or at least I suppose it will. :)
Every time I read something of yours, you just blow me away. I need a seatbelt. And maybe a helmet.
ReplyDeleteYou rock.
Thanks, Rach! Some of that writing is me letting my guard down. Turns out that is refreshingly scary!
ReplyDelete