A Letter from Grief

Dear Friend,

I came here with no language yet all people and all lands know me. I wreak havoc with your mind and body.

I play nasty head games. I can take a beautiful day and put it to ruins. There is no way to escape me when I come.

I make myself invisible. I become loud and present to the one I come to visit, and they have to walk in the world as if I am not there. I am a scrapbook ready to be opened; I am an unwanted visitor.

I came to unearth the volcano deep inside your core. I dig, and dig, day after day.

I bring up piece after piece of fragments of your pain and anger and disbelief of what has happened. I like being in control of your every emotion. I live for this. I am alive in this. I put a lot of trust in your memory to help my cause and as usual, I have no problem there.

Thanks. In the beginning, my job is so easy. No resistance. I move around at will causing deep valleys of sorrow and pain. I can talk you into anything. I tell you things as if life is not worth living.

If you want to get away from me, I will show you how. It really is not hard. When I come to visit, I become a master builder.

I build a wall so tall and strong it would take an army to knock it down. I do a lot of my work at night. I instill pictures in your dream life. Haunting pictures that are very descriptive and full of sounds and smells of the moment.

I have very clever and deceptive and will go to any means to invoke the rawest, of your emotions. I can take the sweetest dream and turn it into your worst nightmare.

You must be saying to yourself why? Why would I do such a terrible thing to someone? Why would you get such pleasure out of someone else's pain?

I do not blame you for thinking that. What else would you think?

Actually, I am doing my job. My job, No one else wants. It is like being the undertaker. Not too many people want that job but thank God, someone does it.

I am here to get you to work whether you want me to or not. To work the process of grieving. In addition, do not fool yourself; it is work, hard work. In addition, you can only do it. The work is painful and in the end can be rewarding.

In addition, as you work through the process, you may even find that you are starting to like me. I know we could never become close friends; I bring too much pain for that, but a friend you can appreciate for the do and the resolve I bring into your life. This is an on-going job with no end in sight. It is just moments of release from the pain and sorrow.

As you go on with the process you will notice that a lot of the unrelenting pain, and pictures, and bad dreams will give way to softer memories of smiles and whispers and eyes of love. Not horror.

So if you wouldn't mind letting me stay awhile longer, I would love to help you down the road a little more, and I promise I will leave when the going gets too tough, and come back when you need me. Alternatively, when the time is right. I will know when that is. I have been doing this for many years now. So, keep up the good work and do not be afraid of the pain. The pain is just a reminder of the work you are doing, and from where I stand, you have done good work.

Your friend,

Grief