silly old bear

grief is a funny thing

it’s a bad word no one wants to say

it’s an uncomfortable guest no one ever wants to entertain

it’s the boogie man under the bed we all try to avoid

the fear of which can be as bad as the thing itself

but life can’t exist without grief

we are always saying goodbye to something – whether it’s the sun in the evening or the last pitter patter of rain or the rolling clouds across the sky, or leaves dropping to the ground in autumn

and grief comes in many forms.

I look at my grown son and every so often grieve that little boy he once was. I grieve for a glimpse of time long since past – just a glimpse – of hearing his sweet little voice. 

the same goes for my darling daughter. she’s a teenager but sometimes I miss her full-body-toddler -giggles and I can still see her plop herself down in my colander – because she fit.

in order to be a better motherwifehuman, I wonder, how do we handle grief in a healthy way?

I’ve experienced quite a lot of grief in my lifetime but I don’t know how well I’ve dealt with it.

I’ve kept myself very busy in hopes I’d forget

I’ve tried to ignore it

on occasion, I’ve shed tears

I’ve journaled, but not much, because I don’t want to read about it.

and after all these years, I still think I haven’t rid myself completely of some very old grief; at this point I wonder if I ever will but is that a bad thing?

and is grief ever a good thing?

Winnie the Pooh said something along the lines of how isn’t it a wonderful thing to be sad about someone or something leaving? because it meant we had love (more or less; I’ve poorly paraphrased)

that old bear is very wise.

but at my age, I’m tired of being sad about losses.

I’m tired of looking both back and ahead in fear because I remember the sadness and don’t want to repeat any of it with my children.

I need to remember what it is I can actually control, and do my best to teach my kids life navigation skills. what else can I do?

the rest is out of my control.

so, grief, I release you – in whatever form you take:  fear or sadness.

rest well and thank you for having served me.

the beautiful sun, is sinking into bed

and I welcome the morrow with joy

How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. – Pooh

by, L.S. 8/8/22