Grief is
heavy
and not in a
figurative way;
It is
literally heavy, heavy,
heavy.
So heavy,
that in the first days and weeks
after your
tragedy
it is even
hard to walk.
Your body
feels so heavy
you have to
will your feet to walk.
You have to
think hard to
even get
them to move,
and when
they do it is all they can do
to merely
shuffle.
You can
still remember that day,
that cold
winter afternoon
When your
friend took you out
for a walk
In the early
days of your grief,
After your
children lost their father…
When you
couldn’t even notice
the crisp
February air
Or the feel
of sunshine on your face
Or see the
bare tree branches
Because all
you could think about was
how hard it
was to walk.
When did the
idea of lifting one foot
and putting it in front of the other
over and
over again
become so foreign?
Mesmerized
by how something
you had been
able to do
for almost
your entire life
had become
so very difficult..
So, very
slowly, you put
one foot in
front of the other
and you
walk.
You carry
that heavy, heavy weight
that is your body
While you
wonder how your body,
which only
weeks before
had been running and jumping
and laughing
and playing…
How had it become
so very
heavy?
Tragedy will
do this to you.
Grief is
heavy.
So very
heavy.
