The wound is the place where the Light enters you.
- Rumi
- Rumi
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| Greg |
This quote from Rumi resonates with me for several reasons. I've felt like an open wound for the last year and broken by circumstances around me. Clearly, I'm not the victim. It was my brother. But after someone you love passes away and their suffering is over, to a degree we assume the role of victim. That's just grief. It's the big hole in your heart - the wound where that someone used to be. They're still in your heart, but gone at the same time.
I'm still waiting for the light to enter. Perhaps it has already begun- but it's happening at such a slow rate, I'm not noticing the darkness is dissipating. I can look at a photo of Greg now without completely losing control - and that's huge. I can find joy and beauty in my surroundings. I've laughed so hard, tears flowed. I didn't allow myself to feel these things for many months. It wasn't a conscious decision to deprive myself. When a fun or joyful opportunity presented itself, I didn't want any part of it.
Thanksgiving was pretty hard. Greg often came to visit over Thanksgiving and the following weekend. I cried as I prepared his favorite pie-mincemeat. I cried again a week later when we had to throw most of it out. Greg and I were the only ones who really loved it. When Christmas rolled around, I had to make a conscious decision to make things happen. Decorating and shopping were the hardest they've ever been. Even enjoying a simple glass of wine seemed like celebrating- but at least by the holidays, I could allow myself to enjoy that!
If life had been a color, it would have been gray - not bright or dark, not happy or sad, just devoid of interest. Clarity of thought is something I have also missed - not that this has ever been my strong point. But I'm pretty sure my coworkers have missed this as well. So, I have to assume I'm making my way through this process. It has been a year of incredible stress and loss.
I'm with my theoretical friend Rumi. I'm looking for the light. Waiting for it to shine even brighter through the gaping wound grief brought when my brother left this world.
My message isn't particularly cheery this morning. It's a gray, rainy Good Friday. However, my hopefulness for even brighter, happier days ahead, is certainly not gray. I'm looking forward and my energy is returning. The gray funk is receding.
If you're grieving for any reason, I hope you're able to see your way though it. Find a way to grow from the pain -even if it's developing a blog and spilling all your misery out on a page for people you don't know, to read. ;)
I'm still waiting for the light to enter. Perhaps it has already begun- but it's happening at such a slow rate, I'm not noticing the darkness is dissipating. I can look at a photo of Greg now without completely losing control - and that's huge. I can find joy and beauty in my surroundings. I've laughed so hard, tears flowed. I didn't allow myself to feel these things for many months. It wasn't a conscious decision to deprive myself. When a fun or joyful opportunity presented itself, I didn't want any part of it.
Thanksgiving was pretty hard. Greg often came to visit over Thanksgiving and the following weekend. I cried as I prepared his favorite pie-mincemeat. I cried again a week later when we had to throw most of it out. Greg and I were the only ones who really loved it. When Christmas rolled around, I had to make a conscious decision to make things happen. Decorating and shopping were the hardest they've ever been. Even enjoying a simple glass of wine seemed like celebrating- but at least by the holidays, I could allow myself to enjoy that!
If life had been a color, it would have been gray - not bright or dark, not happy or sad, just devoid of interest. Clarity of thought is something I have also missed - not that this has ever been my strong point. But I'm pretty sure my coworkers have missed this as well. So, I have to assume I'm making my way through this process. It has been a year of incredible stress and loss.
I'm with my theoretical friend Rumi. I'm looking for the light. Waiting for it to shine even brighter through the gaping wound grief brought when my brother left this world.
My message isn't particularly cheery this morning. It's a gray, rainy Good Friday. However, my hopefulness for even brighter, happier days ahead, is certainly not gray. I'm looking forward and my energy is returning. The gray funk is receding.
If you're grieving for any reason, I hope you're able to see your way though it. Find a way to grow from the pain -even if it's developing a blog and spilling all your misery out on a page for people you don't know, to read. ;)
Thanks for reading!
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| Greg & Bobcat last Summer We lost Bobcat, Bobby, Bob, last week. I like to think this is what they're doing right now. :) |
