Tuesday, August 16, 2016


The Secret Room by Jan Richardson
     Where have I been and what have I been doing? Grief. It sneaks in and takes over unbidden. It resurfaces on a whim. Perhaps it was a song or the waning of summer that triggered its return. Whatver the cause, it springs forth a new wave of sadness. I think most of the time we can never tell when another person is grieving, especially when it's an aging grief versus a new grief. The sadness is buried so deep and carried for so long that it becomes a part of who we are. Life goes on; we work, we play, we love, and we grieve. The telltale sign for me, when I am preoccupied with an emotion like grief, is that I become short tempered and distant. My emotions and thoughts are busy working on the grief and they can't handle any incoming problems or demands.
     Anyway, it's fine. It's just harder to put thoughts together outside of those of the grief. If I allow it some time it will eventually find its place to settle. I miss my mom, but this grief is not only about missing her. It's more about pain and suffering and life and death, subjects that are worthy of  attention in the long run.
     I saw the painting above on Jan Richardson's blog along with her poem titled, "Blessing For a New Layer of Grief". I saw it and thought the painting perfectly represents this type of grief.


  1. Oh, Lee - I wish I could give you a hug in person. I understand the kind of grief you are going through. I wish I could do something to make it better.

    1. Your comment alone is worth a thousand hugs, Lynn. Thank you, my friend : )

  2. I thought of you last week when I was having a particularly frustrating, overwhelming, day with the matriarchs in my care. The answer to my silent pleas of 'can I just have my own life back!!!' is, in profound reality, Grief. I don't want to go there again either.
    Art is an amazing transporter though. Perhaps you can create a wool hooking project that embodies your thoughts as you proceeded through your grief journey much like the above painting does for it's artist.

  3. Thank you for the link to Jan's blog and her poetry. She is really good.
    I am also feeling for you and wishing that I could also help you. Consider this comment as a gentle pat on the arm that will somehow bring you comfort. x

  4. I understood where you were coming from, Lee, because the same happens to me and at the most unpredictable times. Anf, like you, it is the memory of my mother that triggers my grief.