Grief defies easy explanation.
Tears switch to laughter, sadness is soothed by memories, pain is eased by hugs. Life feels irrevocably altered; life continues.
"How are you doing?", well-meaning people ask.
"As well as can be expected", is the best I can offer now. Tomorrow? Grief defies easy explanation.
Reflections from the Bell Curve: Not Today
Hi Pat, I hope everything's genuinely okay on your end. These are brief, minimalist, yet haunting and relatable sentences (probably Hemingway or Carver adjacent) but literary comparisons aside, this constant ebb and flow of grief (like a river) is something I struggle with to this day, as I'm sure you do too. The most prominent examples are my grandma, who passed away last year when she was 90; she and I had an especially close relationship. Every time I see my cousins, the glue that once held us closely together is no longer there. We're all happy with each other but these once-meaningful meetings aren't the same. Another prominent example is grieving the loss of friends who've drifted apart. The other day, I emailed a friend who I befriended in a hospital. It had been a year but I always thought about her. I hope she responds. I know at 20, I'm too old for Christmas lists but last year, the only thing I wanted was to talk to my old friends again, so I wrote their names down with the lyrics to Place to Be by Nick Drake underneath. I don't use social media, I can't bring myself to do so because it's overwhelming and no one knows what people actually go through. It's a low-attention, highlight-grabbing farce and I want no part of it, because like you Pat, I crave real people and the world seems to have people as fake as AI. I'm happy to report that I've found great joy of course in the writing club, the short story club, writing, reading, finding purpose. My social skills, while somewhat quirky and so-so, have improved. It seems I've made new friends! But still, I find myself as the hamster spinning round-and-round in the wheel of grief, missing my grandma and grandpa and old friends. People may say "move on" but I can't. I don't forget easily. (Sidebar: I have a much easier time talking to older people than I do people my age.) I apologize but in emailing an old friend and reading something as simple and interpretative evoked tears and thoughts on this Throwback Thursday morning. Like the Wu-Tang song, after laughter comes tears. You and I best keep our heads up and think of and do the things that give us happiness so we can brush past grief but still allow ourselves to feel. I write at a late time again 😂
ReplyDeleteDaniel; Thanks for the comment. The grief in my post springs from a real source in my life but I purposefully did not over-share, something I've avoided doing in this "public" space largely because of what I see as the gross over-sharing that goes on in social media (the "low attention, highlight grabbing farce" you astutely refer to). Does my blog count as a form of social media? Some would say yes. If so, mea culpa. My wish to not over-share has the effect, however, of rendering a post like this a bit cryptic. My apologies for that. In the meanwhile, the fact that you detected a "Hemingway or Carver adjacent" vibe here is yet another indication of your precocious intellect. Finally, I appreciate your heartfelt reference to the grief you felt after your grandmother passed. Helps me to get to know you a little better. Now get some sleep.
DeleteI completely get not wanting to share specifics, it's not my story to tell or hear, and plus certain things shouldn't be put out there. Maybe I was feeling a little too sappy at the time of my previous comment, but we're all human! I guess this is a sort of "social media," no reason to give me a mea culpa lol; though I feel uncomfortable labeling it as "social media;" still, I've learned a lot on here and am grateful for that! This is infinitely better than all the doomscrolling and all the madness. I hope for a further revival among my Gen-Z peers to enjoy reading and writing. Being nerdy is cool!
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