Everyone has experienced grief in one way or another, whether the loss of a loved one or a life-changing event that turns your world upside down. We all could write a letter or two to grief, and today I’m joining in. Kate has invited all of us to join together and link up our letters to grief.
Because grief visits everyone, at one point or another.
Here it goes:
When I was younger, I thought you only had to do with death. And you’ve walked with me through the loss of loved ones, a presence lurking in the corner, waiting for the most inopportune time to make your presence known.
But that’s not the only place you lurk. You don’t just stand on the sidelines after death visits.
You’ve made your presence known in other ways.
I’ve felt your presence profoundly the door was closed on one chapter of my life, as a new one opened. As I struggled to adjust to a new normal, you walked alongside me, more constant and persistent than I could have imagined. You were like a shadow that wouldn’t leave me alone.
[Tweet “As my world shattered around me, you stalked me.”]
As I hastily said goodbye to a happy life abroad, you pushed me out the door and slammed it shut tight.
You took my peace and joy and stuffed it away, hidden from view. Near, but inaccessible.
And grief? You and I fought.
[Tweet “I tried to ignore you. I tried to busy you away. I tried to outrun you.”]
But you were always near. Just waiting for a moment of vulnerability and frustration.
It’s been a year now, and we are learning to coexist. I have learned to be resilient despite your presence. And though I still mourn my life abroad, I’ve found joy in my new reality. Though I still yearn to return to the life that was, I am enjoying the life that is.
Yes, you are still here. But you don’t rule over me anymore.
Never truly yours,