Grief

That word seems so foreign.

Even the definition doesn't make sense: "obsolete. Grievance, deep poignant distress caused by or as if by bereavement, a cause of such suffering, an unfortunate outcome. Disaster, mishap, misadventure..." (Webster's Online).

 

It just doesn't compute in my brain.

 

Is what I am feeling really "grief"? Does this anguish qualify?

Does this gigantic hole in my heart get to be defined by such a small, feeble word?

A word that has been strewn about, even on comic strips for decades?

GRIEF.

 

No. There has to be more to it than these 5 letters convey. My heart and soul scream out at the injustice of this word. No! I am not experiencing "grief". I am smack-dab in the middle of utter and complete desolation. Despair. Uncomfortable loneliness.

 

I am walking through the narrow valley, the valley of the shadow of death. Cloaked in darkness and surrounded by strange sounds that make my heart skip a beat. Armed with a Light that I cannot seem to aim at the shaky ground. Surrounded by deafening silence.

 

In my mind's eye, I can see where I came from. I still experience flashbacks of that fateful day. I still smell dust and death. I still feel the cold, dead skin under my lips in a final kiss goodbye.

In my heart, I can see where I am going. Glorious redemption. Peace and sanctuary. I can almost taste the sweet honey and feel cool air of the very breath of Life that awaits all those who call upon Jesus.

 

But, neither backwards nor forwards, is where I am, right now.

I am here.

And I miss my brother.

--Julie--