The Hand of Grief.

🟣Deep grief consumed my mind after Nathan died. It consumed my heart, and my time. It stole from from my energy and it felt like it wiped me off my feet and straight to the ground. 

🟣Grief took me by the hand and showed me that there is no set point, there is no end point in time where we just stop grieving. If only it were that simple! 

🟣Grief has shown me that it is a lifelong experience where we must allow ourselves time and space to manage and process it.

🟣In the early years, my grief held me firmly down, painfully dragging me forward through the minutes, and the hours. I couldn’t see where I was going. Grief blurred my hours and my days. 

🟣Grief would ease every now and then and allow me get to my feet, moments of clarity coming through sporadically. Slowly by slowly, it allowed me to stand up. One step, one very tiny step after another. With each tiny step I took the grief fog began to clear in patches of time.

🟣Grief and time worked together to separate the fog, allowing more and more clarity to arrive. And I have moved forward, one minute, one hour and one day at a time.

🟣The hand of grief has never let go, but these days it’s grip has loosened. I’m not tortured by it’s intensity and fog in the same way that it all began. But I still hold it’s hand, very, very gently as I go forward.

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