Monday, September 22, 2014

Random Thoughts on Grieving Openly

The Well of Grief

Those who will not slip beneath
     the still surface on the well of grief
turning downward through its black water
     to the place we cannot breathe
will never know the source from which we drink,
     the secret water, cold and clear,
nor find in the darkness glimmering
     the small round coins
          thrown by those who wished for something else.
  -- David Whyte
      from Where Many Rivers Meet
      ©2007 Many Rivers Press

This is why I post on Facebook and write on my blog about my grief. There is often something to be gained from going downward into the black water of grief. I suspect I have friends, and maybe even family, who worry about me when I am so openly expressing my grief, that maybe they think I have no comfort for my loss. That's simply not true. I am comforted even as I experience and acknowledge my loss.

There are so many happy stories that I have remembered, so many times when we have laughed as a family at some of the things we remember. But we are here, and he is not, and in spite of my comfort and my ability to revel in the memories, the hole in my heart is still here.

I've said it before and I say it again, the very landscape of my life was inescapably altered when I lost my son. I am sad, I am happy, I am comforted, I am hurting. I walk in darkness, I walk in light. My son is gone, my son is in my heart.

I will not run from that well of grief. I will not stand at the edge of the well, and refuse to dip into the dark water.

21 comments:

  1. All of the feelings at once. Letting them flow is brave and healing.

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    1. Thank you, Cyn. I am discovering my "brave" and continuing to heal.

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  2. This kicks ass.

    In the best possible way.

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  3. I like that, Rach! Thank you!

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  4. Bless you for your courage. I have a piece of art on my office wall that I will show you when I do my video. It says "seeker of all things brave". That is you my friend.

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    1. Thank you very much, Hope. I"m looking forward to seeing the art work!

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  5. It is and I think you're so brave to stand it the middle of this, all the feelings and let them all just pour out. It is the best that we can do. And it's the best for us.
    People get uncomfortable, yes,... but that's them. Not you.... the kindest and most loving things my friends did for me was talk about Gary and let me also talk.. without fear. It's a good and kind thing to do.

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    1. Thank you, Lori! It's fortunate for both of is that we have people who can hear us without being all nervous about our grief!

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  6. may the deep love for your son, which can never be taken from you or lost bring you comfort knowing that he lives in you because you keep the essence of him alive in your heart. I still miss my younger brother , Atom..it has been 19 years and his laughter remains tucked inside my heart. He suffered much, and so did i. as i cared for him in those last months and in the long journey of progressive illness that finally stole his last breath.. but i think of him..and have his art and when songs we sang and danced to come up - i sing them ..for him and for me.. i miss him and know that one day we will be together again for eternity in a beautiful place that has no pain. i have "dipped into the dark waters'' and have come up from them to lay in the warm sun that of the love that was between us and still is ..nothing can touch it or snatch it away..ever..not even death. love is eternal.

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    1. Thank you, Anna. I have learned that what you say is true-love is eternal.

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    2. there is comfort in that deep truth

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  7. I speak sometimes in outreach ministry of losing my dad unexpectedly, me 18, he just 40 years old. It was a "knife in my gut", such depth in time not as painful as it once was, but still an inner point where we yet "connect". It is the same location, for me at least, out of which flows healing in Christ. So I understand, or feel like I can relate to your "dark waters", dark not so much speaking of something "bad", but that Bible "veil" of all that lies beyond our ability to grasp, through which we might pass if holding His hand. I love the poem, my friend. It is a keeper......

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    1. I agree, Jim, with ask you have said, and find it to be true for me as well. The darkness is not necessarily something to be avoided. Time of night come to us all, and much growth comes from darkness.

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  8. well said! I have experienced a similar thing in the 6 years since our teen son died. It helps to continue to dip into that dark water of grief...in doing so, it loses much of its power and I have less fear of being irrevocably overwhelmed by that grief...

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    1. I agree, Colorful Heart. It becomes less overwhelming when I do not run from the grief. I am sorry for your loss.

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  9. I love this You help me to be brave. Sometimes, I just want to blurt out *My daddy died.* I stop myself because I fear that people are tired of it. I know you understand. I thank you for that.

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    1. Oh, Mindy. You can blurt it out to me any time.

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  10. We feel and we grieve and we find the coins and we surface and we breathe. And we keep going even when we feel we might drown. There is no 'should' and there is no timetable and I suspect that there is no getting over it, especially when the time was too brief.

    <3

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    1. I know you are right, Denise. You've been very helpful to me in my grief. Thank you.

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  11. Amazing poem, born of pain to be sure. Thanks for it and your sharing, annie.

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