Taming the Grief Beast

What if a beast so fierce it could tear you in two and so uncontrollable it could snap at any moment exists? A beast to which there can be no wrangling. A beast of great power and influence.

Some days that beast is so very real to me I don't know anything outside of it. I can feel it being woken from slumber, hibernation at times. It's groggy and moody not seeing clearly in front of it, but not caring to struggle for clear vision, only having one thing in mind ... destruction. To tear apart all that is sacred and good - to laugh in the face of peace and serenity - this beast - this beast of grief and sorrow lives inside of me.

There are days when I very clearly can see the negative impact grieving has had on my life. Not to discount the blessings and growth and blah blah blah ... but the real gritty ugly part of grief that nobody ever talks about. The part that snaps at people, retreats from contact, cries endlessly with little hope .... these black spots that are being drilled into my soul take a lot of work to conceal.

I have often told myself that taming this beast is impossible - there can be no wrangling of grief. At times that feels liberating and indulgent, but then it turns into this wretched sensation and repulsion soon follows. The cycle exhausts me... sorrow -> anger/frustration -> sorrow -> peace -> toil/worry -> anger/frustration -> peace -> ...

I am challenged by my longings for Heaven. I have often felt above others who can't desire eternity like I can... tisk tisk, I know. I am realizing that in my longing for Heaven I am rejecting this world, but not just the dark fallen parts - all of it. I have no idea how to believe that there can be true Heaven-sent freedom on earth, eventhough I've been told and intellectually don't think my friends are making this up.

Saturday, February 23, 2008 will mark two years of life on earth without my Mom. If you can't imagine this, please don't try - it is far too devastating for you to begin to capture the enormity of it within your imagination. Two years without my Mom here to agree with my decisions or tell me chill out - two years of having to figure out the recipe on my own - two years of flying into Dallas knowing she's not there - two years without hearing her voice... her laugh - two years of using a powdered perfume to remember her scent - two years living in a new city without her ever having seen it - two years of knowing and loving countless new friends without her ever hearing their names uttered - two years of God ripping me open without her benefiting from his refining of me - two years of crying, lots of crying - two years of apologies for being angry with no reason - two long years. 24 months. 730 days. without my Mom.

I can't describe the missing, but it is so fierce I sometimes wonder if it will swallow me up or transform me into that girl who has spent her life missing her Mom.

And I have to admit ... I'm a little mad. It isn't fair. She's going to miss so much ... she already has ... and it just isn't fair. She'll never see me as a bride or as a mother. She'll never come to a bridal or baby shower for me. She'll never know my husband, her son-in-law, or my childen, her grandchildren. She'll never know how it all turned out... and it makes me kinda mad. but mostly really really sad.

Grief never ends. It changes, sure, but it never halts its attack. It never draws back the troops entirely. It doesn't follow any rules. It doesn't abide by any creeds. It is grief and some days it feels like an untameable beast.



For those interested: First Anniversary Blog Entry