Archive | March, 2014

Walking Through A Sandstorm

7 Mar

Grief is overwhelming, encompassing, immutable

Stretches of numbing calm, broken savagely, unexpectedly by surging waves of pain

It’s knowing that everything you believed to be true yesterday will never again be true

The sudden realization that the only tangible thing left of the person is pictures, written down words, and the burning hole they left inside of you

It’s the last words they ever said to you, and exactly how they sounded, etched into your heart and mind forever

It’s things you didn’t say, but meant to.

Grief is crying so hard and so much that you don’t look the same anymore

The skin on your face red, bruised, brittle and stinging, as if you were walking through a sandstorm

and there isn’t a tissue in the whole world soft enough

A giant boulder blocking your road to tomorrow, and the only thing that can wear it down is the excruciatingly slow passage of time

Grief is knowing how good it would feel to give up, to lay down forever, and forcing yourself to go on anyway

Knowing there will be a day when the tears stop coming, the waves recede and the things you remember don’t paralyze you when you least expect it

Grief isn’t giving up…it’s going on

One breath after another

Pushing yourself up and out of bed

One foot in front of the other

One long day after another

One unbidden memory after another

And it is the voice you will never forget

Walking through a sandstorm.