Paradoxical and disorienting

When someone dies, a profound sense of loss emerges.  Sometimes it doesn’t emerge, rather it bolts into your conscience and takes over for hours,days, or weeks. A light has gone out.  Or, at least it seems like it.

While the mysteries of what really happens when someone passes through the thin veil that separates this world from what is next remain, we sense the loss. Loss, as in you can’t go over to their house or talk to them and hear them talking back. You can’t hug them, kiss them, squeeze their hand. You won’t see their eyes glistening or reciprocate their subtle smile.

And so we grieve.  We mourn. From silent grappling to unashamed ugly cries, we grieve. And it is okay. The grieving at least is okay. The loss does not feel okay. Even though, in a grander sense, it is or at least will eventually be okay. Loss is such a paradox, so discombobulating, disorienting. It shakes us to the core, reminds us of things we’d rather not think about. Yet, in the midst of pain, there is peace, unexpected, but welcome, whether fleeting or abiding.

Even in loss.

Worth Repeating

If you suppress grief too much, it can well redouble.

-Moliere

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