Wow I am so sorry for your loss. it's almost a year since my mother passed and it still feels like it happened yesterday but everyday i learn a new way to live around it...sometimes not...
I'm late to this essay, Zina, but it is lovely and true. "Grief matures to heartbreaking memory that leaves and returns, like a grown son who remembers to visit home."
Loved the poem Interim--especially the surprise of the last line. Making that connection between despair and the risks we are willing to take. I feel it's true for me. When I'm in despair, I just want to find comfort in what's familiar---When I'm hopeful and full of joy is when I'm willing to dare.
I love that poem, "Interim", and the part about grief being pressed into "one dark hour" to me speaks about, in some ways letting ourselves be 'defeated' by grief, but then waking up and trying again tomorrow: "Another day will find me brave // and not afraid to dare". But the thing is: the night always comes again, so grief (and life) becomes this back and forth between day and night, between grief and daring. At least that's been my experience. Thank you for this great post.
Thank you, Joachin. I appreciate your kind words. After 9/11 Queen Elizabeth said some words that still resonate with me, "Grief is the price we pay for love." Isn't it so true? For as long as we love, we will always have those dark nights. It is proof that we loved during the day.
Zina, thanks for sharing your perspective here. I haven't lost a parent, but I have profound challenges with grief related to the death of my grandparents, to whom I was very close.
Thank you, Matthew. I am sorry you felt that grief with your grandparents. Grief is proof that we had loved--and loved well. I always appreciate your kind comments.
"Grief matures to heartbreaking memory that leaves and returns, like a grown son who remembers to visit home." A moving post and so well expressed, Zina.
Wow I am so sorry for your loss. it's almost a year since my mother passed and it still feels like it happened yesterday but everyday i learn a new way to live around it...sometimes not...
I am sorry for your loss as well. Losing a parent is like losing a large part of your past. Grief is proof that we loved.
I'm late to this essay, Zina, but it is lovely and true. "Grief matures to heartbreaking memory that leaves and returns, like a grown son who remembers to visit home."
Thank you, Josh. ❤️
Appreciate this:
Loved the poem Interim--especially the surprise of the last line. Making that connection between despair and the risks we are willing to take. I feel it's true for me. When I'm in despair, I just want to find comfort in what's familiar---When I'm hopeful and full of joy is when I'm willing to dare.
Thank you.
Just one dark hour of shaken depths,
Of bitter black despair—
Another day will find me brave,
And not afraid to dare.
Thank you, Grey. And it was so lovely to talk poetry with you this weekend. ❤️
I love that poem, "Interim", and the part about grief being pressed into "one dark hour" to me speaks about, in some ways letting ourselves be 'defeated' by grief, but then waking up and trying again tomorrow: "Another day will find me brave // and not afraid to dare". But the thing is: the night always comes again, so grief (and life) becomes this back and forth between day and night, between grief and daring. At least that's been my experience. Thank you for this great post.
Thank you, Joachin. I appreciate your kind words. After 9/11 Queen Elizabeth said some words that still resonate with me, "Grief is the price we pay for love." Isn't it so true? For as long as we love, we will always have those dark nights. It is proof that we loved during the day.
Zina, thanks for sharing your perspective here. I haven't lost a parent, but I have profound challenges with grief related to the death of my grandparents, to whom I was very close.
Thank you, Matthew. I am sorry you felt that grief with your grandparents. Grief is proof that we had loved--and loved well. I always appreciate your kind comments.
"Grief matures to heartbreaking memory that leaves and returns, like a grown son who remembers to visit home." A moving post and so well expressed, Zina.
Thank you so much, Jeffrey. Your kind words mean so much to me.
Appreciated this. I lost a friend last week, and her youngest son is maybe 18 or 19 years old. They are in the throes of that newborn grief now.
Jennifer, I am so sorry to hear this. I will keep your friend’s family and you in my prayers. Especially her children.
Thank you ❤️
I wish I got to know him better but it sounds like we had a lot in common
We should talk sometime, cuz. For realsies.