Watching pain

Grief is pain. Pain means hurt. Hurt means something is sore. And sore bits require attention. Sometimes it's too hard to give attention to the sore bits but they keep nagging us telling us that we are hurting. The realization that something hurts means there is pain and we are reminded that the pain is because of the grief.

On December 25, 2013, I witnessed my dad take his final few breaths and by doing so, lose his need for the earthly body he had occupied for a week shy of 83 years. He was no longer part of the world in which his family still lives though we often wish he was still around; as long as he could be around in no pain and struggle. We meet people who want to make things seem easier than they are say things that are somewhat unhelpful. They do not mean to, but they do. Perhaps it's because we all have too many words to say and instead of just listening and letting the silence between us do it's thing, we fill it will well meaning but unnecessary words. Everyone tells me that from now on, that day will be significant as we will always remember it being the day on which my father died. It will be more significant because it's already a significant day. But the reality is that no matter the day on which he left us, a woman lost her husband and best friend, children lost their father, a man lost his brother and others lost an uncle, a friend, a neighbor, a co-worker, and we were reminded that we are not around forever, much as we wish it for each other. And there will be all more. We can't see that yet and that's a good thing.