Grieve

Give grief an inch and sometimes it’ll take a marathon.

Grief works itself through each of us differently. The key is not to fight but allow it to flow.

I woke up with the question on my mind: Did you mourn? Did… you… mourn?

Usually, I didn’t. The reality of what occurred or was occurring would transform from shock to disappointment swirled with a few “how unfortunate” and “why this way” and “this wasn’t supposed to be the result.” But then, acceptance came in complete with a brick wall and a heart that secured a fortress with even more security bars.

Memories would be suspect and creep in producing smiles that morphed back into the reality that things changed, that maybe I’ll no longer hear the voice, that maybe God had something better in store for his creation and for myself, yet it still produced a valley.

Grieving has to happen. And it’s less of a battle when you allow it to flow in and without the fight. It’s okay to cry or scream to let it out. It’s okay to compose a poem because you can’t speak the words. It’s okay to understand that disappointment or an expectation didn’t occur and have feelings of everything opposite from joy.

The marathon that grief brings can welcome you into its race when you least expect it. Take each step with care and forgiveness. Take each step with love for yourself and others. Take each step with a soft pillow, warm bed, and rest as it flows. Grief shouldn’t be the lifestyle but it is a process.

Give yourself time to grieve.

Did you mourn?

Did you allow it to be processed? After this, you can proceed with somewhat of an easier load. Your perspective is a bit clearer. You’ve become a bit stronger and wiser.

Take your time. We all need to take our time and let it flow.