A crazily creeping crack.

“I wish I could say that you looked good.” Don was eyeing me with an expression of amusement.

I shrugged.

“What the dickens is with your hair?”

“Been touring with Shaggy.”

The reggae reference was lost on Don, whose musical taste ran to country and western and sixties rock ‘n roll.

Don and I got coffee before plunging into work.  We wouldn’t drink it.  The stuff tasted like liquified dung.  It was a ritual, like sharpening a pencil, or straightening a blotter.  Meaningless action as a prelude to the main show.  My phone trilled.  When I saw who it was, I turned away from Don and listened and nodded.  I put down the phone but I couldn’t raise my eyes to meet Don’s.

“Her body’s been found?” Don asked gently.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Suddenly my hands began to tremble.  I pressed them to my thighs.  Looked down at my feet.  Noted a crazily creeping crack on the wall behind Don.  I had no energy to block out the despair.

Tears welled.  Broke free.  I backhanded fat, salty drops from my cheek.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Don said.  No probing questions.  I appreciated that. That crack jumped about on the wall.  Snapshots formed in my mind.  Her hand in mine, keeping back the fears in the dark.  A ragged breath juddered in my chest.

NO!

I palmed new tears, squared my shoulders and raised my chin.

Don’s etched face was right there.  I looked at him and managed a weak smile.

Moving Forward from Grief

While your life is forever changed following the death of a loved one, it is possible to move forward (Samuel, 2019).

What would you would like your life to look like on the other side of grief?

Reflect on the following statements and as you read each one, take the time to absorb it, and make it part of your reality.  You may have to do this a few times, and that is ok.

v  My grief is my own and unique to me.

v  It will be possible to find meaning again in my life.

v  Other people have been able to move on with their life and so will I.

v  I will need to work hard towards creating my new life.

v  While it will take time, it will be possible for me to find happiness in a different way.

References: Samuel, J. (2019). Grief works: Stories of life, Death, and surviving. New York: Scribner

The race of life always hurts

The race of life always hurts.  Expect it to hurt.  Just as a runner doesn’t train so that it doesn’t hurt.  He trains so that he you can tolerate it.  So it is with the race of life.  It hurts.  But we can get through it to the finish line.

Speak to you soon!

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Ashleigh Daniel

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