“It’s all of that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
Slip off your shoes,
and set them by the door.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
At some stage, after Elizabeth’s death, I was given a three-page pamphlet on ‘How to Cope with the Loss of a Sibling’. I have no memory of who gave it to me or when, but I remember reading it one night when I couldn’t sleep.
We can choose to meet death like a great opponent about to begin an epic sword fight. We grow in size by our ability to live life in its absolute fullness. We let no moment of beauty pass under our nose without sniffing it and hugging it and holding it close.
Having someone you love die feels like suddenly getting yanked by the collar of your shirt and being dragged at breakneck speed through the clouds and then gently being released into the atmosphere.