Grief is a Mercurial Being…

Grief is a mercurial being… Sometimes it sneaks up on you, surprising you from the behind one day as you’re sitting at the kitchen table, minding your own business. That brief moment of contact leaves you sobbing on the floor, tea towel in hand, wondering what happened. The offending creature, gone just as fast as it came. Sometimes grief stalks you, like a cat hunting a mouse. You can feel it’s eyes on the back of your neck. It will pounce, always hitting it’s mark, and then painfully play with your soft, tender heart over what feels like an eternity. First claws, then silken paws, then claws once more. Pain, then sweet memories, then pain, all over again. Sometimes it moves in; lifting the latch on the window one night, it spreads out all its baggage, all its stories and memories, everywhere and you find it sleeping on your couch in the morning. It eats all your snacks and the glow from it’s late night doom-scrolling keeps you awake for weeks. It stays for 3 months, rent free, and never picks up after itself. Sometimes though, Grief leaves for long stretches of time. And while you’re quietly relieved, you also wonder where it’s gone - how far, for how long? You are afraid to let out the breath you’ve been holding for fear that even the softest of sounds will somehow beckon it’s dark, heavy body back onto your already crumpled soul. In those moments, strangely, you find yourself missing Grief somehow. Not the crying in public, or the sleepless nights or the blurry-edged days, or the weight of the waves as they crash over you, and pull you down, but the surety that, while it hurts - is sometimes completely and utterly unbearable - at least it makes you feel something. xx