Copying Anderson’s words from The Rainbow Comes and Goes. Personal Grief is something I feel I could not write eloquently. It reveals too much and it aches so much. This is one of those days.
“Ive often thought of loss as a kind of language. Once learned, its never forgotten. I learned the language of loss when I was ten, and still know it to this day.
I think back to that person and know I am a fraction of who I once was, who I was meant to be. As much as I want to break out and laugh the way I once did, feel joy the way I used to, I can’t, not fully, not with the abandon that child with a father once knew.
So much of our adult lives is influenced by what happened to us as children. It is all still there, the memories, the feelings, and fears, stored just beneath the surface in the hidden crannies of our cortex. |
You and I are different in how we handle grief. I know for you it’s important to talk to people. But I found it hard to talk about what I was feeling. In times of crisis, I grow silent. |
The demon of rage- I have often felt that I, too, am fueled by rage, and I have only ever told a few people that. It is not the “rage to live,” but rage at the unfairness of losing my dad and Carter.”
“Is the pain less? No, just different. It is not something you “work through; it is not something that goes away or fades into the landscape. It is there forever and ever, inescapable until the day you die.”