Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Grief plunge

For me, grieving is like I am one of those cartoon characters who went off a cliff.

First, I padded the air with my feet, thinking I was going to be fine and this was all a bad dream. When I realized that I really was going to have to plunge to the ground below, I began grabbing at branches, rocks, large blades of grass, whatever I could get.

I periodically can find a branch which will hold me for a while, and while it gives me respite from the terrifying plunge I am taking, it also delays the inevitable. Sometimes people will reach out to me, too, and I grasp their hands, relieved to feel safe or protected but also loathe to wear them out or, worse yet, pull them down with me. Of course, they don't want to take that plunge either, so they pull away. While it is understandable, I feel deserted and less safe.

So I bounce from rock to rock, becoming more battered as I continue down to the inevitable. I am getting used to the wounds, but they still happen.


Anita said...

Thought I'd come visit you while my tears are flowing and sadness occupies my heart. Just read another blog of someone I like in the blogosphere - Julie at "Midlife Jobhunter." Her mom, Bernie at "Old? Who? Me?" passed away. It made me think of you and your grief.

debinca said...

yikes, intense visual. but as usual right on.

heres hoping you find a branch today.. owl

Munchkin Mom said...

To Anita, thanks. To Owl, I did. Hugs to you both.