Really? How is grief a gift? What does grief do or not do that causes it to be a gift? I wrestled until I was willing to put pen to paper and explore the possibilities.
Grief floods me with memories. It takes me by surprise and transports me in time. An avalanche of memories cascade upon me threatening to take my breath away. Sometimes good. Sometimes painful. A flooding nonetheless.
Grief stings. I want to shrink back and pull the painful nettles out of my heart. I want to feel nothing. The loss overwhelms. It is empty.
Grief provides me space to feel. To feel the loss of a dream, a child, a marriage, a parent, a friend, a pet, and many heart aches yet unexplored. The space feels wide and vast, with no map or roads to travel. At other times it feels like a suffocating closet with no air to breath.
Grief looks like a torrent of tears that will never cease. Is there really that much fluid in my body to cause these many tears? I may just drown. At other times one tear escapes, slides down my cheek and neck, leaving a trail of salty memories.
A belly laugh of memories escapes through grief. It may start as a smile and ruptures into a cleansing release of happiness and joy.
Grief is the before and after. A defining moment and yet an eternal emptiness filled with intention. Still there is laundry to be done. Dishes waiting to be washed. Food to be prepared. A going on with life…
A gift, an invitation to feel. An invitation to explore my heart. A timeless gift not many are willing to open.
A Net of Hope 