Vehemence, variance and poetry in grief


Hi, friends.

I hope this post finds you well. This week has been the epitome of this time of year. I’m functional, but floundering. As ever, I will be glad when Easter and the first couple of weeks of April are over. Then I will be on my way towards being fully human again.

I wasn’t sure I was going to write today, but thought I’d better, just so you didn’t think I’d fallen off the face of the earth. The irrational way in which I respond to any mention of Easter still takes people aback, and to be perfectly honest, it annoys me too. However,  I’m not sure how to deal with it more rationally, because the feeling remains. Hence the title ‘Vehemence, variance and poetry in grief’.

Posting may well be sporadic between now and Easter, but I will try to share what I can when I can, and hoping to stay afloat in the meantime. One day, this time of year will not reduce me or defeat me. I look forward to that day.

With regard to the Remembering Our Online Friends event on the 6th of April, I intend to use the Twitter hashtag #ROOF for tweeting about the event. If you will be tweeting about it, it would be good if we could use the same one. :)

Right now, I’m going to share a poem I wrote a week or so ago, which highlights the nature of this experience for me. It may be different for you than it is for me, but I hope that we can all share something of this journey together.

 

Small Circles

Most of the time, I move forward:
Doggedly, stoically dragging the experience behind me.
I make progress to a point, and then it suddenly stops.
I wonder whether it’s worth all this time.

It has been with me for a long while now,
And I either want to free myself from it
Or redefine my connection to it.
I’m not sure which just yet.

My rational mind says ‘Turn your back,
Don’t worry, walk on. It will fall away.’
Emotionally, that is hard to accept,
because I want it to fall away, and I don’t.

I would gladly leave behind the detail,
If I could just have the memories I want,
Remember what she was to me,
Which was more than the way she died.

Then I step back from my thinking,
And realise that I am where I began.
The nature of grief is no more than small circles.

Wishing you peace and strength on your journeys,

ncblogsig

 

About these ads

About Casey Bottono

I am in love with language. I write poetry and fiction in a wide variety of genres. Most recently, I have been shortlisted as a finalist in the Coalition of Texans with Disabilities' Pen2Paper contest.
This entry was posted in Grief Loss and Bereavement and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Vehemence, variance and poetry in grief

  1. Rw Reed says:

    Casey – Thank you for t.he post and it is beautiful! Reflective, raw and honest…”The nature of grief is no more than small circles”. I am at a loss as it is so true…only to expand the circles into ripples that reach another shore. Bless you and thank you!

  2. Pingback: All things for a reason, and in their right time… | Navigating Cyberloss

I love it when you share your thoughts- so feel free.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s