It has been almost a year—10 months and 13 days to be exact—since someone very dear to me died.
I'm no longer thinking of his death or his life constantly like I did in the several months following his death—every object, place, scent, and season reminding me of him—but the thought of him still comes up in many places, like when I see the bag of chips he loved, when I hear the songs he liked, or when I hear any song that evokes a certain feeling inside of me—which, can be very often.
It just comes up and takes hold of me, this deep sadness and grief. So I let it, when it comes. I cry. I let the tears come, because it's time to release some more.
It doesn't hurt like it used to, or at least not nearly as much. I don't feel the agony that I felt in the beginning. What I feel is deep grief—it's tender and deep, and deeply sad and haunting.
I let grief run its course for some time now. In the beginning, it was like thunder demanding to be reckoned with, inescapable in its violent rolling path. And it became like the clouds in the overcast sky hovering over me at all times in the background, ominous and never leaving. Then it became like the volatile summer rain that came often and suddenly between the clear and sunny days.
Grief is now humming quietly in the background underneath the grind of my daily life. It doesn't make itself known too often anymore. It's still there but it's soft and it's quiet and pays a visit every now and then. When it comes, it shows that grief runs deep—my heart still raw and tender.
In all its phases I let grief run its course; because somehow I knew this is how it had to be. I know this is how it has to be. I ride the waves.
I let grief take me down. I let it take me up. If I had to go sideways I let it do that, too. I became selfish and I hid. I avoided, I fled, I broke down. And I do it all over again, and again and again.
I'm healing quite well, grief. Thank you for showing me the way. I still hurt but I trust I will hurt less and less because I'm hurting less and less.
It gets better. I know grief is not the end; it's a process guiding me on the path, if I only allow it. I ride the waves. This too shall pass. The pain will pass.
And I'll be left with beauty, unrelenting and pure. I see the glimpse of it already. This is the promise of life. I take it all.
Grief runs deep. I'm okay with that. This is also a gift he left for me.
How deep can we go? Very very deep.
Love runs deep. Beauty runs deep.
Grief runs deep.