Sunday, September 16, 2012

the solitary pursuit

grief is an uncomfortable and solitary pursuit. it digs down to your roots and festers in crevices. it robs you of breath when you open her closet door and find her scent clinging to sleeve and hem. it makes each photograph a punch in the gut, each impulse to still buy her flowers a slap.

grief makes you wonder, for 3 long instances at 4am, what it would be like to follow her. then the angel of mercy presses down on your breast bone and suddenly the drought has ended. you marvel, in surreal fashion, at the soft animal sounds that escape your lips. you wake hours later, swollen.

grief makes you socially repugnant. no one really has the stomach for it, what with all that sadness getting in the way of busyness and gratitude lists, of staying calm and carrying on. loneliness is a side effect of grief.

you understand there will come a shift that will ease you out of the pain and the longing and the regrets. you understand life will go on and the cliche of time will indeed let you sleep. but in the uncomfortable and solitary pursuit of mourning love and companionship lost, you wonder how the fuck did this happen.


  1. i wrote a huge long comment and it was all artsy and deep, but the truth is, there's no answer, so i deleted it. i love you, and there is just time, exactly like you said.


  2. We have watched dear friends grieve (and grieved ourselves, of course) and been aghast at people's inability to know what to say, how to help, when all any of us wants is some companionship on our journey. Know we are with you, Dear Graciel. Know that nothing is expected of you. Know that there is no right or wrong to this, only the getting through to the new normal. Much love...

  3. i think you are so right, there are some things in life that we can only experience alone. those that love us can help, but in the end, in the deep dark middle of the night, we see the bare bones of life.

    love takes us to both places. up and down and every place in between. sending hugs across these miles. xoxo

  4. Angela Vular9/18/2012

    I am feeling your words!! Oh the's still with me after a year. I think it will be with me forever.
    Sending you love and a huge hug!

  5. I am with you, Dear Kindred. I echo what Christine said. You are loved and so dearly held in the light of comfort, safety, and peace.

  6. Anonymous12/29/2012

    I know the feeling...the pain, the hurt...the sadness..the regrets, the longing...I am experiencing all that. Send you my love and support.


I always appreciate the time you take to comment on my blog. Thank you for stopping by. Peace from my heart to yours. xo, Graciel