Life Perceived by Me

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Grief Personified

Grief is a creature all its own, its an entity that is good nor evil, not comfortable nor truly painful, it just is. However even grief itself struggles against the unnatural nature of Cancer, and the sights that go along with such an illness. I know you’ve seen it before and this isn’t my first go’round watching someone pass away in such a cloud of agony a slow sapping of life.

Obviously I am not expert but I would think passing on due to old age, or ones heart just stopping can’t be on the same level playing field as this. Nothing can be worse then watching your loved ones watching you die. Or feeling the intense fear and anxiety that courses through your very bones as death itself is knocking so fervently at your doors, windows and very walls of your soul, your safe zone. Knocking so intensely that your teeth are chattering not by will but by the sheer vibration of death’s urgency. Its so painful to imagine yet again comes around the fact that grief is not soft and warm nor cold and evil, it is just neutral. Grief, if it was to be actualized would have the most interesting combination of habits. Some how grief would make you feel safe and secure to be angry and hurt. In a way unknown to the world around it grief would allow you to embrace all of those seemingly conflicting thoughts and emotions and create a world where conflicting they aren’t. Rather these thoughts and emotions fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly. Nothing forced, not an edge to be sanded down or changed in any way. Just a simple perfect painless fit regardless who you are, where you are coming from or what differences are seen by the world surrounding you. In grief’s arms we all are equal!

Being you aren’t my fantastical grief personified you must think I have gone positively nutty and am in need of some serious medication or maybe a week or two in a fancy hospital with padded cells. It feels good to write, create a description for the indescribable. When my father died it was pain and relief intertwined together with a little gold rope to adorn it. Death wasn’t knocking on his home with malicious intent but more of an offer of peace found not in a bottle of pain killers but in the embrace of the end. Acceptance, why does that word carry such a heavy load. To finally accept something, anything one must know that good will have its bad. To accept death, grief and the like the bad is so much more prominent then the good. Even as I speak this, feel this and know it to the tendrils of my life its still so damn hard to perceive it as nothing less then a horrible event. When I am being selfish to not wish death to come upon him faster, allowing him solace.

However I am smart enough to know what selfish fears I am catering to by not wishing him a quicker arrival to peaceful place. My fears is the reality that outliving your children is. My dread is watching my grandmother, my mother, my family wraith in silent agony over the loss of someone so important to them and not being able to do a damn thing to truly help. Cause yet again if grief was actualized one hard fast rule would be you have to walk to his embrace by choice never by force. Then of course I’d have to climb over my personal cement brick great wall of logic and feel, cry and experience the normal. Quite frankly that hurts and I am not looking forward to it in the slightest.

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