Howling

I've heard it said that grief is like an amputation. The only way this is accurate would be if one's heart and solar plexus could be amputated and still allow life. Grief is like a black hole. Grief is like a shell. Grief starts below the breastbone and spirals outward until it can be felt in the toenails and hair. My son was a beautiful, vibrant ray of light and now he is lost to me. He is now "the presence of things hoped for but not seen". Without him, I cannot think in a linear fashion. I cannot articulate. I am pure Id much of the time; raw feeling on the surface and nothing beneath. There is no way to mourn that is right, appropriate, proper, timely, "nice"-any of that. Mourning is ugly; it lets a person's most inner despairs out to howl at the sky. Outside, I seem subdued, but rest assured-I too am howling.

Introduction

Welcome. This blog will focus mainly on grief, bereavement and the healing process. Thank you for reading.