In my sleep, I descend the stairs and you rush past me, telling me to hurry up, people are downstairs and they are waiting for us. I’m confused, my jaw opening and closing like the door you just came through; swinging on its hinge at a loss at your presence.
Spaces like these bring so much peace to my heart.
Today is one of the days where I kneel humbled by my grief. I am not bowled over by it, I am not stressed about it, I am simply shaken by it.
I lay in the sun, and saw a spider. It was a tiny smudge against the blue. Long, desperate webs trailed from its body like a single stitch that bore witness to the little life hurtling through the sky. Rather than fix him in a physical place, this web stitched the spider into my mind. I often come back to him.
Thank you Ingrid, and thank you to everyone who allows us to share their posts about grief. Make sure you go on over to Ingrid’s blog to check out the rest of her content, and please let us know via email or our “contact us page” if you’d like to share something about grief on our blog. Everyone grieves and here at The Grief Reality, we want to normalise the conversation.