For the past 3.5 months, I’ve been sending myself text messages. They’ve mostly been rapid thoughts that had neither a beginning or end. This past week I went through these thoughts and pieced them together. The following piece is broken up and fragmented at times. However, it gave me a glimpse into my mind these past few months.
The pain is so deep that it cuts into the fabric of my soul.
The rage boils tumultuously at my feet.
A voice that once filled our hearts with so much joy is now gone forever.
At night, the sound of silence is powerful and deafening. The bed is empty. There is no comfort.
I fall to my knees, asking why? Eventually, drifting off to sleep with questions unanswered.
I see you in my dreams; you are silent and a mere shadow of your past self.
As the sun peaks over the horizon, I rise from a restless slumber and embrace it all once again.
Stronger than the previous day, slowly breaking free from these shackles of grief.
4 Comments
Yes, embrace the pain. So familiar; sometimes many of these feelings/thoughts, at least for me, occurred within a few days (or even a few hours, or sometimes even concurrently). I remember often feeling “broken up and fragmented” in the aftermath of my wife’s passing; while I feel mostly glued back together now, the cracks are still there – part of who I now am.
I love the crack analogy, and I guess you could say that my glue is still pretty fresh and fragile.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kintsugi
Sometimes the glue makes it all more beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing your grief openly. Your experience resonates.
Thank you so much for your honesty. Your words prompt thousands and thousands of prayers. There’s a Leonard Cohen lyric in “Anthem” – “There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”
I can’t imagine that even feels possible to you in these days, but I pray slivers of light into your day today.