One year of grieving

One weird year later.... 🖤

You don’t really explain grief.

There are no words to summarise an experience so surreal.

It’s a feeling ... and even then, it’s different for everyone.

But like birth, death connects us all. At any one point in time - we’re both living and dying - and we’ll all die, some day. It’s the touching, the physicalness of things that goes away. And I don’t know where they go, I don’t know what happens next.

Grief.

It’s a subtle swell beneath the surface that ebbs and flows, crashing at its peak. It’s the soft tear you don’t feel until it hits your chin. It’s a longing to love someone special - to see them, touch them in a way memory cannot. Because it’s the giving love that we need.

Sometimes I am angry. I hate the way time thrusts me forward and yet holds me back. It feels like yesterday, everyday, and yet here I am in a new world.

It’s as if we’re reborn through grief.

As though, we all die together, passing, through an old way of being into LIVING. In a world of gratitude - with new depths - as we suddenly realise all the things we still have. It’s a sorrow so rich it births hope.

I miss my brother, I miss his big brown eyes, his smile, his empathy, his help, laugh, presence, calm, passion.

I could be delusional... I don’t care if I am, but I believe we all return to source. We are folded back into matter. We always matter.

Energy isn’t created or destroyed - it simply changes form.

And it’s possible, it’s possible that he lives on - through me, with me, in memory but maybe more than that. And it’s enough - that feeling.

My self belief, belief in him.