Day 37: The Mornings
In grief, I often hear about that moment one wakes up to a pleasant fuzziness or comforting unknowing. This usually lasts less than a second, and early on in grief, can be violently ripped away by the sinking feeling of how different one’s world is, forever changed, and far from the expectation. It is that “is this is really my life? moment.”
There is no fixing these moments. There is just having them, as painful as they are. Time allows for that reality to move in a bit more softly, as if the knife is dulled slightly, our system feeling less urgent in its reminders of what has changed.
Writing the pain out, knowing it comes from somewhere, asking what the tears are speaking, using my hands to make breakfast, drinking the same cup of coffee, making sure it is frothy and vanilla-y and creamy, have all been anchors for those cruel mornings.
There is no true fix. There is living within the cruelty of it all. Finding ways to hang on. Getting out of bed. And most mornings, celebrating that you brushed your teeth.
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Welcome to my #100dayproject. I am providing a daily offering on #grief, in honor of each person who has trusted me with their story and wisdom during their #griefjourney. I hope that others may benefit from simple and straightforward talk about a topic that can be difficult. Thanks for following and/or sharing.