There is no time that I can recollect in my memory quite like the time that we are in right now.  These days, on the rare occasion that I turn on the news, there is a ticker no matter what network, showing how many deaths have happened.  The day before. The month before. In the last year.  What a real and raw way to remind us of the ever present reality of death and impermanence, and to remind us of our grief.
  

So many loved ones over the years have died; so many people that I have admired but not known; so many hearts broken, including my own.  No matter how much I practice Presence, no matter how prepared I feel at times to manage the death of someone, grief still comes.  And, at times comes when I don’t expect it.

Holidays, of course, are a poignant and painful reminder of those that have died. Anniversaries. Momentos or photos. Pieces of the people that are still with us, but not here to touch. They poke at our pain, even if we have put it away for a period of time. That brings with it an assortment of emotions, ranging from sadness to anger to hopelessness.

I am always grateful for the remembrance, for sure. But there was a time in my life that believed that grief was something that we experience immediately after a loss, and that it would ease with time. And, it does. Yet it is also persistent, comes around when we may not expect it. Lasts for years, decades even, and at times feels as fresh as when we first experienced the loss.

There could be many reasons for that.  One being that loss doesn’t fully leave us; that it creates an imprint on us and we carry that with us for the rest of our days.  It could be that we process loss years later, then at the time of experiencing it, so that refreshes the pain and sorrow within us.  It could be that we are longing to wrap our arms around that being, just one more time, in order to feel connected and whole. 

However, a dear friend of mine, whose sister died just yesterday, posted this brilliant quote about grief from writer Jamie Anderson: 

“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give but cannot. All of that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, in the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”

So, if that is grief, love in action, reminding us of itself, then so be it.  
I am loving the persistence of Grief.