“I’m doing fine.” “We’re getting by.” “Slowly getting back on our feet.” I could not tell how many times I have said these words when well-meaning friends inquire. What could I really say? Grief has so many faces, it’s difficult to even understand it myself, much less explain it to someone else. Grief comes in waves and stages, fluctuating and contradicting over time. Emotions overwhelm the senses, some lasting for days, others for months, and multiple feelings compound together all at once. My experience has been a journey unlike anything I had imagined or encountered before. I used to think grief was only the sad feeling of loss. Now I understand that it can be so much more.

Some days grief is a wrenching pain screaming out from the depths of my soul.

Some days it is a numbing paralysis, suffocating the very life out of me.

Some days it is a tangible ache in my arms, longing to hold my child.

Some days it is exhausting fatigue that feels as though the weight of my body is too heavy to lift.

Some days it is a deep sadness imploding my world into a small dark space.

Some days it is a punch in the gut that knocks me off my feet and leaves me gasping for air.

Some days it is an uneasiness that twists my stomach and makes my nerves flair and heart race.

Some days grief is the soft sweetness of precious memories held close and kept alive.

Some days it is the close bond of family, supporting each other in a shared sorrow.

Some days it is seeing your kids walk out the front door and wondering if that will be the last goodbye.

Some days it is a state of hypervigilance, feeling as though another tragedy could strike at any moment.

Some days grief is floating through an empty space, grasping for something to hold on to.

Some days it is self-loathing and self-hatred.

Some days it is a tornado of confusion hurling around in my head.

Somedays it is a black void where neither thought nor word can come together cohesively.

Some days grief is an ordinary day, going through the motions as though nothing ever happened.

Some days grief is an ocean of tears that cannot be contained.

Some days it is Netflix bingeing for hours on end in an effort to escape my world.

Some days it is craving every good food and some days it is being unable to eat at all.

Some days it is being unable to talk to anyone, ignoring calls and texts, and leaving unopened emails.

Some days it is being unable to even go to the store, afraid I might see someone I know and have to talk.

Some days it is having family over for a BBQ and keeping it together so well that I look fine.

Some days it is being friendly and talkative, a little glimpse of the old me trying to peek out again.

Some days it is wondering aimlessly around town all day to avoid the pain of being at home.

Some days it is watching the ones you love hurting as bad as you and being powerless to help.

Some days grief is an avalanche of self-doubt, so as to make me not even know who I am.

Some days it is staring blankly out the window, seeing only a world that is cold and grey.

Some days it is seeing a glimpse of my daughter everywhere I turn, expecting her to still be there.

Some days it is feeling the memory of her face slipping away where I cannot find it.

Some days it is holding her personal belongings, as though each one held a remnant of her presence.

Some days it is wanting every reminder of her kept out of sight, blocking out any trigger of a memory.

Some days it is being angry at God and questioning all I believe.

Some days it is unshakable faith and sweet communion with my God.

Some days it is feeling like an island alone, unable to connect to anyone around me.

Some days it is deep mutual understanding, laughing and crying together as one.

Some days grief is reaching out to my child and feeling that Heaven is so close and so real.

Some days it feels like the other world is beyond reach, a million light years and a lifetime away.

Some days it is being devoid of any coherent word or creative thought.

Some days it is a focused expression, an outpouring of emotion through paintbrush or pen.

Grief is so many conflicted feelings coming and going that it can never truly be explained, but it is deeply understood by another who has walked a similar road. Each one’s journey is different, but we share a common bond, and in time, we will get through it.

By Marie Morrow



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