Grief and I are on a journey together. I am grateful for the times Grief sits by the roadside, or takes a side street, leaving me alone for a while. When Grief returns, perhaps I am slightly stronger, because it demands to be carried. Grief cannot sustain itself forever. It needs to be allowed, but not fed. I think it will become lighter, but the loss of my baby Todd, the loss of his presence, the missing demonstrations of his love, demands it will always be standing nearby, waiting to rejoin me when necessary. I will learn to allow it to retreat as much as possible.
More loss in the past few days. An older, friend-Baby, and a young, vibrant, emerging-adult Baby. I need to crumble, but cannot. A thought enters my head – I have not so much as approached the trials of Job nor suffered as the Savior. So, I take my new friend, Grief, aside and we have a talk. Grief must stay on the sidelines for a while because there is much work to do for the living now.
The air is heavy with rain tonight, but the pungent odor of orange blossoms dominates. Hope and growth break through the tears.