How We Grieve

April is coming to a close.  I have just a few more classes of the semester and then I am facing the summer — with lots of projects and tasks I should complete.  Yet, in light of the events that have happened this past month, I’m finding it hard to get excited about the months ahead.  It’s funny — but everyone thinks that if you are a writer, then of course, writing about your grief helps you find some relief and closure.  But I’ve always had trouble writing about personal loss — at least right away.

So for now, I’m wrapping up the semester, and I do have a “To Do” list that NEEDS to get done, no matter what.  I also have a lawn that needs to be mowed (yes, the neighbors with their rumbling lawnmowers make me feel guilty).  I have boxes of book left over from spring cleaning that need to be donated.  I have laundry.  I have dusty window blinds.  I have dishes in the sink.  I have one last lesson that needs work.

The business of living must continue.


  1. In Blackwater Woods

    by Mary Oliver

    Look, the trees
    are turning
    their own bodies
    into pillars

    of light,
    are giving off the rich
    fragrance of cinnamon
    and fulfillment,

    the long tapers
    of cattails
    are bursting and floating away over
    the blue shoulders

    of the ponds,
    and every pond,
    no matter what its
    name is, is

    nameless now.
    Every year
    I have ever learned

    in my lifetime
    leads back to this: the fires
    and the black river of loss
    whose other side

    is salvation,
    whose meaning
    none of us will ever know.
    To live in this world

    you must be able
    to do three things:
    to love what is mortal;
    to hold it

    against your bones knowing
    your own life depends on it;
    and, when the time comes to let it go,
    to let it go.

  2. kweyant Said:

    Thanks Sandy, for sharing this poem. It is a perfect work in time of grief.

  3. Love.

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