I've been reading, when I can muster the courage, about grief in its various forms.
At first, I sought stories for purposes of solidarity, but solidarity engulfed me until all I could see and feel was despair.
Grief, what an all-encompassing, unanimous human frailty inherently awaiting each one of us.
Today, after days and days of no-capacity, I googled, "Is grief supposed to get worse?"
General consensus yielded a resounding "Yes," with the deepest of plummets averaging at four to six months descending into depression.
English vocabulary gets tricky when it comes to this:
The term depression is as ambiguous as the word love. It means a great many things, at various moments, in various contexts, to various people.
And the idea of pain, is perhaps, even harder to analyze.
States of shock serve as a buffer; another biological adaptation refined over millennia.
This is a ramble, evidence of my fractured psyche, but the truth is that I've lost my desire to do anything, especially to write right now.
All I do these days is relive beauty and heartbreak, over and over, a sort of harrowing imprisonment.
I can see the good, it's coexistence.
I am not numb...
....everything is just so unfathomably heart-wrenching to me.
Given a choice, hypotheticals being in vain:
I'd not bring Olivia back to this world.
Not to the pain.
Not to the subjugation.
Not to the deterioation.
Olivia lived out her purpose more beautifully than I could've imagined, with a perseverance that leaves me speechless... in ways that I am still coming to grips with.
I am resolved by her impact...in her legacy...
But every fiber of my being loved Olivia so intimately, beyond who she was to everyone else...and beyond what she taught us about the human condition...
I loved her. This delicate, heartbreakingly beautiful creature, that was housed in my very body at the beginning.
So, resolve is not relief.
Not in the slightest.
I am so tremendously honored to have been Olivia's mother.
But, honor is also not relief.
Not in the slightest.
Thank you dearest Darla. I receive it. 🖤
It does...get worse..and...it gets better..only to be repeated countless times. Ive read grief described as coming in waves that envelope you...unexpectedly and overwhelmingly...and just when you think you will succumb to the weight of the wave of grief...it washes away for a time. Loving someone so profoundly changes you. We encounter people every day of our lives but there are a few, very special, very rare souls that touch our lives in such a deep way it transcends understanding. Please recieve the Love and yes, solidarity Im sending to you and your family. 🤍