The grief bully
I put off till tomorrow what I don’t want to deal with today. But grief will not be procrastinated, because it won’t be denied. When I think I have conquered it, I find it lurking in the darkness, crouching and waiting to pounce on me when I am vulnerable, and then hold me in its grip. Sometimes my grief is like a childhood bully. When I finally stand up to it, it backs down. Other times, I fear it, and loathe it, and I try to avoid it, until I can’t hold it inside anymore. It comes pouring out in the form of cleansing, quenching tears. I cry to the point of exhaustion and then, I feel better. My face feels clean and hydrated, and my eyes feel relieved. The tightness in my chest is abated, and I can take a deep breath again. I wash my face, take another deep breath, and give myself a fresh start.
I used to hate the fact that my grief is a life sentence, but in time, I have come to accept it. I know it will always be there, however, I have the power to determine how it affects my life. Sometimes the grief bully gets the best of me, and other times, I stand up to it, and back it down. I have learned that living a good life, and even being happy, in spite of my pain, does not diminish my love for Lauren in any way. I try to go on, and live the rest of my life the best way that I can, because I know I should. Just like I would never want my grief to hold Lauren back from the full glory of heaven, I know she would never want her death to hold me back from peace and happiness in the rest of my life.
Today, I am at peace. I know where Lauren is, and I know that I will see her again one day. I feel her presence and her inextinguishable light around me, and inside my heart, always. I accept the fact that I have no control over the timing of our reunion. All I can do is wait “in joyful hope”. In the meantime, I want to live a good life, and make the most of my time here. I like to think of being happy as a testament to Lauren. I know that when I smile, she smiles, and that makes me want to smile all the time.
Tara Rodney
3/1/11