Grief By Stephanie J. DeMartino We all grieve differently Some grieve quietly Solemn in their grief not wanting To show their pain While some are loud Letting the pain out for all to see and then beginning The long battle of healing Some hold their grief in for so long That eventually it eats at
Your grief for what you’ve lost holds a mirror up to where you’re bravely working. Expecting the worst, you look and instead, here’s the joyful face youve been wanting to see. Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes. If it were always a fist or always stretched open, you would be paralyzed.
Our Lives Matter by M. Maureen Killoran We come together from the diversity of our grieving, to gather in the warmth of this community giving stubborn witness to our belief that in times of sadness, there is room for laughter. In times of darkness, there always will be light. May we hold fast to the
When Will I Be Myself Again? “When will I be myself again?” Some Tuesday, perhaps, In the late afternoon, Sitting quietly with a cup of tea, And a cookie; Or Wednesday, same time or later, You will stir from a nap and see her; You will pick up the phone to call her; You will
The Thing Is to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills