Sorrow, heartache, pain, anguish, are all symbolic of the word grief. But I have come to know grief like a dear old friend, who while not entirely welcome, always finds a way in anyway. I am the youngest of 5 children and the baby of the 3 girls, so I was the princess, the eternal child. My 3 eldest siblings were pretty much grown and moved out and it was just me and Alex. He was born August 25, 1980 and I, September 25, 1983. We were very close and near inseparable. He also had cancer and lost his battle at 11 years old. Suddenly, this fairy princess, the eternal child, was shoved fiercely into “maturity” in a way never imagined. I have spent a great deal of my life wondering why him? Why not me? It has been 29 years since his passing and yet, that ache is continually there.
Recently, we lost my beloved Father and my adopted “Ma” ((within less than 6 months)). Grief has now grown up and has children to boot. It’s been just barely 6 months since Dad’s passing and barely 2 weeks since “Ma’s”. And once again, grief has moved into my head and is there smiling that impish glee like the wicked friend that always gets you into trouble. I’m keeping her well contained but I do have my moments where I am an ugly, sobbing, horrific mess on the floor. I also have moments of complete and utter peace where for just a moment that ache stills and I feel no pain and that is because I know they are no longer in pain, they are free, and they are dancing with angels.
People probably think I’m odd to call grief an “old friend”. Grief has had a backseat most of my life, always in the background, poking me now and then so I don’t forget she’s there. Because I have learned the best way to heal, is to hurt. Say what? Yes, you must hurt to heal. No, you will never recover after losing someone, but it does become easier to live with if you acknowledge that grief is there and will not go away no matter what you try. Faith in the Lord and faith that you will see your loved one again someday, is how you keep moving forward in this life. So, embrace grief, welcome grief, offer her dinner and a room, because she is never leaving your side and oddly enough can be comforting at times ((when you acknowledge her)).