Bus 9 To Hell: A Final Word About Grief

by m

I never imagined when this began where it would end, where this road would take me… seems I took the wrong fork in the road, and instead of paradise, have ended up in my own living form of hell. Reminds me of that movie, What Dreams May Come, when he comes to realize he cannot help his wife see that she is creating the very hell she lives in…but he goes in anyway after her, to be with her in that place. That is love. That is love. Being there. Just being there, even if there is inside the self-created hell someone cannot escape from themselves. Just holding out your hand and taking them into your arms, when there are no words left to encompass all that is, has been, will be. Just being there. That is love. I hope I can know that kind of love one day. I hope I will find another fork in the road one day that leads me back to paradise. Until then, this is what I am left with: only my own grief.

“I have also learned that there is no such thing as a timetable for grieving nor is there such a thing as the proper way to grieve. The most that can be said is that there is a general pattern, a broad outline, but within these contours each person finds his or her own way. What is true is that for many the amount of time grief takes to work itself through is far longer than outsiders realize.

People tend to get impatient with the bereaved. But when there has been a profound loss, patience and understanding are often the most important things to be had.

I think there are two ultimate sources of comfort for the bereaved. The first is the recognition that the great mystery is not death but birth, not that someone loved is now gone but that the person was here at all. The great gift is life and loving and being loved in return. In this way love is stronger than death, or any ending.

The second source of comfort comes from other people, from those who can sit quietly and simply be with the bereaved. Their love, kindness, tenderness and caring is what gives us the strength to go on.

The pain felt at a loss seems too much to bear, yet people go on because the beauty of life remains despite the loss.” - Arthur Dobrin

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