Wednesday, October 17, 2012


Grief is the shadow that sits in the corner of your room. It waits paitently for your eyes to close. It circles your bed, knowing your thoughts are resting, dormant in the night time hours. It slips between the covers, knowing how to fold you in its arms just so. Comfortable. Secure. Feeling you breathe deeply. Inhaling at a fast pace. Exhaling slowly. It wraps its arms around you.

And then is squeezes.

Grief is tricky like that. It is a sneaky beast that knows exactly when you are at your most vulnarable. It knows to wait til you believe the worst is behind you. It takes the moment when you have relaxed, when you no longer think of him day in and day out. When his smell is gone and you can barely recall the warmth of his embrace, greif will remind you. It is a harsh reminder.

I was doing ok. Here and there I would think of Patrick. Think of how my name would roll off his toungue so sweet like. He'd wink at me whenever he say it. The sound of my name amused him. And I entertained him. Everything about me seemed to make him laugh.

I can't help it, he'd tell me. You're just so damn funny.

I'm here for your amusement, I'd retort.

But, I loved it. I loved how even when I was talking serious business he would look at me with a grin on his face. I could tell him I dreamnt I spoke to the Devil the previous night, and he would smile and tell me how I must have been entertaining to the Beast.

When Patrick died, I felt as if I'd been punched. And as the months went by, I was faced with new challenges. Heavier challenges that threatened everything I had worked for. Thoughts of my better half were replaced with pain and fear. On occasions I would think of Patrick, but mostly I would lay in a self induced haze.

But, then everything turned out ok. Didn't it? I was no longer sick. And blessing after blessing greeted me. My mind would turn to him on a whim, and I would casually miss him like I would miss an old friend that moved away. Not one that died suddenly.

So, I thought the worst was over.

Until grief tapped me on my shoulder and reintroduced itself to me. Grief took its knife and stabbed me, repeatedly, in the heart. As I laid there, hands clutching the invisible wound, I could do nothing but cry out in pain.

Cry out for Patrick. Cry out for the unfairness of it. Cry out against the act that brought us together. Cry because he wasn't here when I was sick, and he's not here to enjoy my many blessings. Cry because I am alone with grief and I am so damn pissed over it all.

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair.

I whisper this little mantra over and over. I look to Grief, now in human form staring at me and I question its very existence. I look at the short, stubby creature and I deplore it.

For the record, Grief  (when in human form) is no taller than 5 feet. He has short black hair. His left eye is blue and the other is brown. His nose is bumpy......too long for his face. He has elf like ears. And he has the most hideous laugh. It's almost like a snort.

I detest him.

I do not know why Grief brought Patrick back to me. As soon as I remembered our last encounter, I could smell him. I could feel his arms around me. As if he were hugging me at that very moment. Patrick always picked me up when he hugged me. And then, as he would set me back down, he would laugh.


So, grief came. First it was a shadow that danced around my room. But, as the night turned into day, Grief became a living person sitting on my couch. Taking up my space. Breathing my oxygen. And no amount of tears can send him away.

Grief is spending the day torturing me. Reminding me that the best thing that came our of the worst thing is long gone. There's nothing I can do to bring Patrick back. So, all I can do is sit and cry.

And hope tomorrow will be different than today.

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