Grief is action
It’s doing whatever it takes.
It’s the crossing of every boundary.
Grief is wanting more time, but wishing for the end.
It’s letting another’s peace come before your own.
It’s the forgetting of self, the end of everything small and petty, the epitome of love and understanding.
Grief is waiting.
It’s saying goodbye.
It’s feeling like it will never end, but yet like it’s all moving too fast.
Grief is the quiet moments.
It’s the promises made.
It’s facing the end and learning to live without a part of your heart.
Grief is a wash of gray, a numbness.
It’s feeling fine and devastated.
It’s feeling thankful and angry.
It’s the silent prayers, the one-way conversations.
Grief is the tears, the robber of sleep, the stealer of joy.
It is the slow, burning longing inside to go back, even if for just a moment.
It’s knowing things will never be the same.
It’s not knowing what to do, what to say, how to act.
Grief is feeling lost, alone in a sea of people.
It’s the painful feeling that comes with the memories, the images of a face you can no longer touch, the feeling of the hand you can no longer hold.
It’s the heartache, a heavy weight.
Grief is a time. It’s a place. It’s an ocean with no horizon.
Grief is unnerving, unapologetic, a quiet lamb and a ferocious beast.
It is the end of life.
It is an unfinished story.
Grief is watching the world pass you by for a while.
It’s having no idea of how to move forward, but knowing you will.
Grief is a moment at a time.