Dear Grief Stricken,

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I’m so sorry for your loss. I know your heart is hurting. Yes, other hearts hurt, too. But, let’s talk about you. You had no choice in this pain. Your loss was thrust upon you, like being thrown from a car or poison injected into your system. Everything changed.

People will tell you you’re not alone. The truth remains, although others suffered similar or stand by your side, your grief is etched with your name. Deciphering how you deal with your pain and the people around you resides within you. Yet, I tell you, you’ve got a thousand angels standing guard for your heart alone, even if you think there are none.

Still, the path you must walk can only be carried by your feet. The vision forward and the meaning you give the past—all yours. The tears you shed run down your face. The memories play like movies in your mind.

How long this takes is your journey, but that doesn’t mean you get to choose a time frame or how deep you’ll delve into the pain. You’ll go as deep as it pulls. But, baby, you’ve got this.

Sometimes it feels like you’re a candidate for the looney bin. So, be it. If you can’t go crazy over grief, when will you let go?

You’ll be tested. I won’t tell you it’s going to be okay or don’t cry or don’t laugh. I’ll not advise you, knowing the line at your door for that.

I simply say, and I’m paying it forward here: I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry your heart is hurting. May it hurt less tomorrow.

 

 

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