During the month of April, I am taking on the Blogging from A to Z challenge, writing twenty-six alphabet themed grief notes.
On August 17, 2017 my twenty year old son was killed in a car wreck. I am trying to be OK . . . we are all trying to be OK ... in a world where nothing is OK. I am reaching for what I know heals me ... creativity ... art ... writing. Stringing together words, thoughts, and questions.
I spend this month, wrangling words into stanzas and cadences
and sentences and paragraphs
writing grief notes
because I want you to see
I want you to understand
I want you to know
the truth is that every word is a generalization
my experience is my own and it is specific to me
I know every note, every rise and fall, of this orchestration
I wrote it.
I perform it.
I am this symphony of sadness mingled with hope, tiniest bits of hope.
this is my story
and all that I have to say about it
flattens out into meaningless definitions
because you can't know
you can't understand
you can't see
unless it happens to you
and I would never want that for you
for those that I love
I would prefer that we only know grief as a concept, as a distant tragic something that might happen but hopefully not, as a story that we read in a book.
I wish we knew only the generalization of it and not these piercing shards, the crushing weight, the perpetual anxiety.
What we know is different than what someone else knows.
and what we know today is different than what we will know tomorrow.
There is no planning, no preparing.
There is just showing up each day and seeing what it will be.