All in Grief
"As long as I kept moving, my grief streamed out behind me like a swimmer's long hair in water. I knew the weight was there but it didn't touch me. Only when I stopped did they slick, dark stuff of it come floating around my face, catching my arms and throat till I began to drown. So I just didn't stop." - Barbara Kingsolver
Three years ago, I couldn't outwardly explain my grief.
I was sitting in my tiny apartment, the one with the perfect natural lighting and warm-colored walls. The one that I took probably six months to decorate to my liking. But it was nothing but a distraction. Moving things around, bringing in new cups and pots and pans I was unlikely to even use. It was a lot like rocking in a rocking chair. It was giving me something to do but I wasn’t going anywhere.
This is the core reason I started this blog. To share my experiences with loss, grief, and ultimately - the feeling of being stuck. It began two years ago, when my mother died, and it took me a long time to first realize that I was stuck and then how to free myself from it.
Cleared of every day life, the visceral need took hold once again.
Provisions packed, cables unplugged, atlas mapped, hats on, doors slamming. I was ready to take on the icy cold of the east. Guided by the horizon and hugged by the mountains. The quietness of early Christmas morning enveloped the roads and us. It was my first Christmas apart from the familiar warmth of family and whatever remainder of tradition we could bare to muster.
Countless times I stop and think to myself,
"Can you see this? ... I hope that you can see this too".
I do not know what happens after you die. I've given this much thought since I've lost my mother..