the care and feeding of grief (a work in progress)

grief is a hungry
lonely thing
a feral feeling
skittish
unsure
uncomfortable
and often angry

when it’s quiet
it’s not okay

step one: don’t wait for it to come to you
it’s already waiting
in the space between too early
and too late

step two: whisper in its ear
say, i don’t know if it will be okay
but i’m here right now and
i’m so sorry
you’re going through this

step three: give it the comfiest blanket
tell it to close its eyes
just for a moment

step four: send treats, the kind that say
it’s an occasion when people bring things
and leave them as reminders
that someone was there
that something can fill up
the now empty spaces

step five: don’t give up
grief likes to hide in corners
and cracks
and photos
and phrases you used to toss around
without a second thought
and even when there are no signs of its existence
it will return

step six: remember that time doesn’t heal
minutes don’t make anything better
time can pass and weeks can go by
but absence is ongoing
(be gentle with giving too much responsibility to moments)

step seven: let tears jump out
the sobs are going to crack the surface
at odd times
for no reason
for many reasons
for minutes
for hours
for seconds
waves of remembering what is lost
crash against the shore of reality sometimes
and sometimes
it feels like drowning

step eight: breathe
together
in and out
because you can count on lungs filling
and emptying
until you can’t