Grief Cometh In The Morning

20 Apr

There is psalm that says “joy cometh in the morning” and thankfully, after bouts of grief we usually do get a respite. But for those of us well acquainted with grief, sometimes “grief cometh in the morning” too. Profound grief becomes part of the landscape of our lives – distinct and tangible and not something that can be easily bull dozed or blasted away. I was reminded of this as I felt grief materialize this morning – creeping up on me like a dog following me home from a walk. Eventually, I had to acknowledge its presence. 

Grief is never what I would call pleasant and rarely is it convenient. It grinds everything to a halt like when a subway car breaks down.

Last night I was reading a book where the author recounted the story of finding a homeless man dead in front of his non-profit agency. He spoke of the sad irony of this. As I read, I felt a jab of pain in my stomach as I made the connection between what I was reading and my own life. As I made the connection that my mom was also found dead on a street. So I pushed the pain down. But not really for the feelings are always there. In the jaw. In the shoulders. In the hips. Emotional pain turning to physical pain until the breath releases it from the anguish of suppression.

So will the public remember this aspect of grief long after the news reports of Chelsea King and Amber Dubois’ deaths have stopped running on the nightly news? Do we as a society understand grief or prefer to get caught in the surface level of it? For as I sit in my grief, knowing I’ll deal with my mom’s suicide for the rest of my life, I realize the parents of those girls will be dealing with the homicides of their daughters for the rest of theirs. Grief will be part of their internal landscape. Written on their bodies. And for that I am sorry. 

2 Responses to “Grief Cometh In The Morning”

  1. Blair April 20, 2010 at 3:13 pm #

    gorgeous!

  2. April King April 22, 2010 at 3:32 pm #

    Lise, as I read your thoughts on grief, I was reminded of part of an old poem:
    “I walked a mile with Pleasure;
    she chattered all the way,
    leaving me none the wiser
    with all she had to say.
    I walked a mile with Sorrow,
    never a word said she,
    but, oh, the things I learned from her
    when Sorrow walked with me.”
    Isaiah 53 describes Jesus as a “man of sorrows, acquainted with grief”. May His living Presence and
    gentle touch comfort you today with a comfort that is beyond words. He understands. Praying for you, dear one.

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