I have been told that you know you are healing from a great loss, not by the absence of suffering but by the fact that the length of time between each episode of intense grief gets longer and longer still.  Its been awhile now since I cried over the dissolution of my marriage with Juan, since I dwelt on the reality that all I had hoped for as a young bride turned out so differently.  I know I am healing because it has been months since I felt so sad.  It is this fact that I cling to tonight even as my tears keep me awake.

And its true that I have noticed that I no longer feel the need to go to the sub sub basement of despair.  I am now content to rest on the stairs between the ground floor and the basement of my emotions.  A softer sort of sad. 

And it is also true that I no longer fight my grief.  I no longer am afraid of the waves of emotion.  I know that they will tumble over me and that they will go and happiness and joy will once again rule my day.  Over the last few years I have learned that I can sit with Sadness.  I know that if I don’t ignore her she will eventually leave.  I listen to what she tells me.  She tells me I am capable of great great love and deep forgiveness.  She tells me that once I dared to live a beautiful dream.  She tells me that I gave of myself so completely, that I learned to trust, that I gave my all for something.  She tells me I was one of the lucky ones to have known love.  These are beautiful things to know.  And so I cling to that too.

These signs, not the absence of grief, are what tell me I am healing.

I have been waiting for months for Juan to sign off on some very important papers.  Today he handed them to me.  It is not the end of our process but it is an important step.  Yes it is a very positive turn of events, one that enables me to move on.  But as it is a milestone it marks our way along a path I did not choose, and this fact, this is what makes me grieve.  I long for the path I started out on–for the path I was so happily treading along until the day he told me he was leaving.  This path I have been on has been strewn with lots of rocks and mud and icky flies but also great beauty and new sights I never would have known.    And I cling to this too.

So all day today I have not been able to control the leaking of tears from my eyes.  I have been sniffling uncontrollably, hoping that all those who see me attribute it to a bad cold or allergies.  I don’t mind the sadness but I do mind being so publicly sad.  And I mind it when sadness robs me of precious sleep, of the comfort of my bed.

I know from past experience that eventually I will sleep.  Sleep will help.  So will tea and warm oatmeal with apples.  I will be a different person tomorrow.  If not tomorrow then the next day…or the next.

Joy will eventually return and I will know I am one step closer to healing.

One Response to “Grief”

  1. cp brakewell Says:

    Interesting. Thank you for that, however let me also thank you for something else. I suffer from color blindness (protanopia in my case). I mostly use Safari browser (no idea if that matters), and a good many internet sites are challenging to comprehend thanks to an unfortunate selection of colors employed ithe design. However, here, as the selection of colours is sensible, the site is amazingly tidy and easy to read. I have no idea whether it was a intentional and mindful undertaking, or just good luck, but you have my gratitude.