Grief and Coffee

Sometimes grief is melting to the floor, uncontrollable silent sobs, waiting on the coffee to brew. When the cool floor catches you in it’s solid embrace and stops the spiraling. 

Grief waits for its moment. It’s patient, yes, but don’t confuse your ability to push it away and ask it to wait for any semblance control over her. If you don’t give her a space in time, she will take it. She is persistent. She is necessary. She will not be ignored. 

Yet grief is elusive. She’s a finicky guest. She doesn’t like the space I make her...in the beautiful wilderness, in the quiet dark, in the car...no. She takes the moments she wants and I succumb. 

I won’t fight you grief. You’re welcome here. I’d rather you pass through my life, time, space and be on your way. You are beautiful. You show me the depths of my capacity to love. Granted they’re reflected in the depths of your darkness, like a glassy pond at night. I don’t have to dive in to know you. I don’t have to drown in your cold embrace to heal....at least not today. 

And so our precarious journey continues. I can already see the perils of spending too much time getting to know you. Others may not understand my journey into the dark...they don’t have too...I don’t need them to.

And so as these words cease, and the tears dry, and the sun rises, grief leaves, and takes her darkness with her. With a deep breath and a prayer of thanks, my day begins anew... 

🖤