Grieving

It occurs to me that I haven’t written here in months. But I didn’t realize why until I am watching a glimmer in my therapist’s eye as she is telling me to grieve. Yes, I know I lost a grandfather, an organ, the possibility of being able to grow a child in my uterus and a friend in 2023 but I’ve been dealing with all of that. But she pointed out something else I have been grieving.

The rights to my first book of poetry and prose “She Lives Here” were reverted back to me last year. There are loose ends to tie up that I am responsible for that I have been distracting myself from for months. But why?

My therapist had the nerve, the unmitigated gall to point out the truth. I am also grieving everything that went with writing, promoting, pushing, doing readings for “She Lives Here.” This is not to say it is over but it’s been a couple of years, almost three and it is no longer a new work that I am excited about birthing into the world. It’s been here. It is still my baby that I am proud of and will always carry with me but the truth remains. As I pointed out above, I have become a reluctant expert in grief. But have I learned to move through it? Is there really a coming out on the other side or will there always be moments when I retreat back into the darkness of the cave, unwilling to peek my head back out?

I believe these questions will stay with me as waves of grief hit me in the months and years to come. I think the sadness is natural. I think there is beauty in letting it be what it is. I think there are smaller things to grieve like the closure of the freshness and newness of She Lives Here and the tsunami sadness waves like losing my grandfather. And it is all real. It is all valid. And all of it is worthy of recognition and attention.