When you are visited by grief it takes a while to feel it. I mean really feel it.
You know when you do though.
It's thick. Sticky. Hard to shake.
It's like smoke. It seeps into your soul. Gets under your skin, fills your lungs with black and clutches at your heart.
It may seem odd but it's difficult to let that go.
I know the intense feelings of love and amazement when I gave birth to Yuna, then in a flash it was overcome with other feelings. The slap in the face kind of intensity of new but just as powerful feelings. Pain, loss and grief.
So it begins. You nurture it. Cradle it. Hold those new feelings closer than you'd really like to. You begin to need that feeling over and over again. It after all seems to be the only way you can feel. It keeps you floating along in this foreign sea of loss. It seems to be the only connection to the original feelings. The feelings that were.
That connection to you, Yuna.
Because if you're feeling pain then it must mean I'm not forgetting you. It means I'm loving you.
But surely there's a way to love you and be connected to you without the grief, sucking the life out of my very heart and soul.
Perhaps just the fact that you existed should be enough?
It's scary to let go because almost like every ache, every pain is like a way to show my heart, the world how much I wish you were here in my arms.
It's memories now. Distant yet vibrant memories. It feels sometimes that I'm making them up. I have to wonder if they were indeed a reality. Your birth, your short life, even your death.
If I close my eyes could I reach you?
I never wanted to let my grief take me away from who I am. Sometimes you just have to be that grief as a whole. I didn't want it to define me, but I see it's now a part of who I am. There are many parts to me. This is just another for the collection in this life.
I hope, I was going to say I hope there are less tears and more smiles but I know there will be. I also know there are plenty more tears for you, Yuna. That's okay too.
Your beautiful face and those wise soulful eyes. Magical.
I'll always remember them.
It's just hard to be happy and feel joy when I ache to hold you again.
The struggle to understand the grand plan. The lesson. Perhaps that is the plan, letting those ideals go too?