I dress in the pallor of a life invaded, an alien force that ruthlessly plunders while I sit and watch, uncaring and non accepting.
The invading tentacles seep to my brain causing outbursts and words unknown to me, enveloping me in their anger.
A stormy sea of rage drenches me, frothing, and bullying me continuously.
I watch myself; detached as waves of indescribable emotions pound at me, eroding my identity.
I gasp for air between the waves, and in those moments, I fear for my sanity.
Exhausted, I am washed ashore; defeated…
Janet closed her diary with a mournful sigh. She wasn’t expecting her emotions to return so vividly.
“This is such a stupid idea!” she tossed the diary onto her desk, and looked out disdainfully into the garden.
‘Looks like rain, and I have to go and pull those stupid weeds too.’
Janet gasped, and clamped her fingers to her mouth. Her negativity was crystal clear, why hadn’t she seen it before?
She pulled the sleepy grey cat into her lap for comfort.
“That stupid Robyn, how dare she come bouncing into the ladies club with all her bright colours and Pollyanna personality?
How dare she examine my grief for Bill?
If I choose to be a ‘wallowing sad sack’, as she described me, then I bloody well will!”
Grey cat dutifully purred and listened as Janet described that afternoon at the club; how Robyn had challenged her to snap out of her poor me attitude and embrace life. Janet didn’t care to notice it then, but admitted that her friends were nodding in the periphery of her vision. She was dearly loved by her friends, but those melancholy walls had made her unapproachable.
Janet sat at her desk and admired the gentle sun streaming through the lace. This time the window revealed the hidden joy of daffodils attempting to bloom in her front garden. She let the morning sun warm her face, picked up her pen and opened her diary once more.
Like an unannounced relative that has come to stay, I have made up a bed for Grief in my heart.
We sit on the couch; my Companion and I, and we share a familiarity that needs no explanation. Melded together by this misfortune, we are honest and open in our expectations.
I give thanks for my Two Edged Sword.
Grief smiles and laughs with me at my richest memories, and mourns with me in my darkest hours of woe and tears.
Each cut and slice reminding me that my beloved no longer lives outside of me but within me and my sweet memories.
A new found strength arises from my acceptance to climb out of cynicism, and I discover boundless energy that had been hidden under a soulful and melancholy spirit.
I now step forth with an intention and a freedom to enjoy all that life has to offer…
And in the garden, the petals of a daffodil began to unfurl.