i’ve decided to resurrect this space. it’s lain dormant over the summer, much like the grief that i created this blog to process. i suppose dormancy is a phase, once of the many stages of grief that didn’t make it into the 5 item list.
this place i created and word-sobbed into was not very conducive to dormant grief, either. the eloquence dried up, the emotions morphed and muted, and the words were … gracelessly constipated. ( as opposed to what, i don’t know. gracefully constipated?) it’s not that the grief has lessened, not at all. if anything, it has become more complicated. initial grief, for all its ghastliness, is at least simple. the body, mind, and spirit are consumed, united, unifocused.
maturing grief must factor in housework.
maturing grief must survive being unacknowledged.
maturing grief must suffer misdiagnosis and confusion.
maturing grief must answer for laughter.
grief matures as it works its rivulating lines into our faces and our hearts, pathways of feeling on a face that finds, surprised, that it can smile after all.
to be useful, this place must be more than a grief place, because my life is more than a grief life. the blue sky still shines over, but in more ways than one.
so take this as a warning … the next post may be about our community house, about my greek history class, or perhaps about sky, too.
i’m glad to be back.