This is one of those subjects so hard to write about directly, a Writer’s Block as thick as a tumor feels like it lodges its way between me and my writing tools, clogging the words to express such feelings inside me, choking me.
Once I can get myself going, it’s like vomiting. I’m sick with grief, until I start to puke out the words with such force, I cannot stop. The words pour out in a deluge of pain.
I struggle to articulate this. Grief isn’t always articulate, but it is recognizable.
Why write about something, which is so sad, which hurts both writer and reader?
Grief is part of life. Death and the loss it brings connects all living things. As much as I may sob and suffer over the one I grieve for, he was worth the pain.
For every tear I cry, there is a smile and a laugh, for memories of Sage have always made smile and laugh. Those memories will make me smile and laugh again, even as they make me cry.
Why share this grief? Why write about it?
Every time someone else shares their grief, every time someone reaches out in sympathy, I realize I’m not alone. When we acknowledge grief, recognize it in each other, we’re reminded we’re not alone. Grief connects us, making us less lonely and isolated in our pain.
This realization helps me heal, even if it doesn’t make the grief go away.