Conversations with Grief

I was up late last night having a conversation with Grief, Reality, Empathy, and Hope in the dark. Grief tended to dominate the conversation and Hope fought to get a word in. Grief sat like a giant in the room. His words fell out of his mouth like lead weights crushing the floor beneath him. Grief told me over and over again that life will never be the same, and all present agreed. Grief became desperate to be heard and exclaimed that I am lost, and most agreed. Grief got louder still and said that the pain is too much, that I will surely drown in it. Reality pointed out all the spinning plates that had fallen and crashed to the ground; my heart sank. Grief said that this weight is too much and I cannot carry it; all agreed.

After we sat in the dark for some time, Empathy spoke up. She said that she is with me and that others are too. Reality reminded me of names and faces. Hope started in with a soft and sweet voice. Her words floated in the air, some like bubbles that popped or dissipated, and some like balloons that lingered and clung to the ceiling. She said that these names and faces will remain with me and that there will be others. She said that even though the weight is too much for me, that others will carry it with me. Grief asked Hope if Certainty could confirm her suspicions. The room grew silent; the silence became deafeningly loud.

Hope admitted that she had never met Certainty. They had never been in the same room. But then Hope began to fire questions at Reality, not out of desperation, for she was not shaken. Her voice grew more confident and louder with each question as if she knew the answers before Reality could utter them. She asked Reality about what we have seen and about when Empathy has been there for me before. She said that she and Certainty had never been in the same room, but asked Reality if Certainty had been in rooms after she had left them. Reality thought, and then agreed that this seemed to always be the case. She then stated that where Empathy has been she has pointed to a greater empathy. She said that Love has called us all here. Love has known our pain and can see us through… Hope said that I am not lost.

We sat in the dark for some time. Reality sat calculating and recounting. He broke the silence and said that both Grief and Hope have evidence… And then he said that Hope has been right in the past… Why cling to anything else?

And as we sat in the dark, I smiled.

2 thoughts on “Conversations with Grief

Add yours

  1. Thanks Gable. Your raw honesty in this journey is refreshing and encouraging! HOPE based on faith/trust in God’s love and goodness sustains us in these times. LOVE you man.

  2. Wonderful words, funny that you see hope as a female. I also have a female voice as Hope in my head and I think it helps, usually my Mother or my Wife. Grief is my Dad’s voice. He was not a nice person. He is also the voice of hate. I now understand why he was as he was, I think, but his voice is still that of hate and grief in my head. You are the only other person I have spoken to that speaks of emotions in the first person and refers to them as voices. Stay healthy my friend. My Mom used to always say “This too shall pass.” The people we love do not pass when we lose them nor should they. Instead that hole in our life where they once where remains and we go forward with this “New Normal.” I now guard those spaces and look forward to the day when they will be filled!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: