The last few weeks has been a trying time. One of my best friends from college lost his mother in a sudden and tragic auto accident in Scottsdale, AZ. I have been so grateful to be down here and in a position where I can physically be present for my friend and his dad and brothers. I've never lost someone suddenly, and I've found that while I didn't know his mother personally that well, I've been grieving for Kyle and his family. Part of my frustration has been with wanting to help, but knowing there is really nothing I can do to understand what that family is going through. I wrote about it, partially for me, and partially trying to voice some frustrations with the grief process overall.
We all ask:
Reality tells us—this happens to folks everyday
News stations can't even run the stories
they're so common
But the weight on my heart
the agony ripping at my soul
a suckerpunch to my ability to
These things tell me
this story matters
this life matters
So we reach out in the only way we know how
trying to connect
trying to help
trying to ….
feel like we're doing something.
Can I come help? Do you need anything?
I'll send a package! How are you doing?
Do you want to talk? I'm here for you.
For maybe a couple weeks.
And then suddenly it stops
like we've overcome the pain
and life can be normal again.
Are you kidding me?
My grief still feels like an open wound
and it starts to heal when I can be real
with someone and share my sadness
But you all think I'm fine
after all it's been quite some time
I should be recovering
She'd want it that way.
She'd want it that way?
Oh those words always cut to me like the steely edge of a knife
sometimes a comfort
mostly a brutal reminder that
what we are saying is purely conjecture
because we don't know what she'd want
because she isn't here!
This is grief.
This is now life.
We all ask: