Last night we sat by the fire with chocolate, marshmallows and graham crackers. We weren’t camping; we were grieving. We reveled in the joy of grieving.
We laughed, cried, remembered and forgot the loss of a good friend.
Perhaps we grieve best with family and friends — and food and fire.
This morning I got up and had my morning quiet on a big, soft couch, with a cat and coffee and a blanket. I’ve quit drinking coffee — except when grieving.
I love the early morning, and the late mourning too. I spoke with one of my friends who is a therapist last week. I asked her, “How do you grieve?”
“I don’t know,” she said. I felt better right away. If the expert didn’t know, maybe I wasn’t so lame. I don’t know either. I suppose it is kind of like breathing; you just do it, to stay alive.
“I eat macaroni and cheese” she said. “And go somewhere different from my normal hangouts.”
I started getting the idea. We grieve using grieving rituals.
I’m off, on a mission, to establish some rituals, for when I’m sad. Eating sounds really good, and taking time in the backyard, with fire, and family, and couches and writing — and drinking strong coffee.
This morning I wrote some proverbs, about grief. Here they are for your instruction in grief, and for your pleasure — in thinking.
Grief is the finest proof that we love.
Love is a poem; grief is a novel.
Grief has a peak, straight streak, oblique.
What’s past help isn’t past hurt.
Grieve when you hurt; heal with dessert.
Joy needs a mouth; grief needs an ear.
Grieving rituals are our victuals.
Simmer your losses in silence and sauces.
Grieve all your ouches with blankets and couches.
Sleep’s a respite for the desperate.
Loss instructs wavering minds to steady.
Weep — then make a fiery launch into the future.
Resilience is our super-human brilliance.
I feel so much better. I think I’ll celebrate today — my gains!
You can find more of my thought proverbs, axioms and epigrams on a wide variety of topics at http://www.modernproverbs.net