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Grief is a funny thing.   There is no prescription you can take and everyone reacts and responds differently.   I have found grief makes me an observer.  I am there.  I appear to be functioning.  But I know I am there in the middle of life watching the actors even appearing normal.

But I know I am not.  Something is not alive inside me.  Where feelings should be, they are not.  Numb.  Comfortably numb.  Disconnected.

I keep telling myself I am okay.  I keep moving forward and doing what needs to be done.  But something is missing.  Something vital.

A grieving person is like a person treading water way out in the deep; if they have nothing to hold onto, and lose hope they can just so easily slip beneath the surface.    One just does what one needs to do, and hangs on.

I so often remember yet what I remember now seems so long ago and so far away.  I know there are some things that are not able to be put right once they are ruined.   So much is gone; all gone.

Yet for those who matter I can and do still summon up a smile.

There is no sun today to spread itself across the loungeroom and brighten the fabric of th chairs and cheer the room.  The glass on two complete walls, floor to ceiling are pebbled with icy rain, and though the rain has stopped the wind yet howls and wails and tries its strength against the walls, its breath so cold there is little for the heater to do against it.

I do know it gets easier with time.  The sharpness of grieving will be blunted by the passing of time, but I do know this loss cuts deeper than others.  This loss left me feeling more alone than I have ever felt before and I myself might well grow old and die before enough years have passed to blunt the edges of the pain  and loss I carry now inside me.   It is well hidden.  My mien is crafted to show the world confidence and ease, and peace.  It hides the dark well of nothing that is a dead hole within the carefully constructed exterior.

But I will survive this.  My heart is scattered outside of me and though sometimes I doubt it can keep me standing, yet it does.  I breath.  I go forward.  It is what a heart does.


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