Baby Steps

When my J died earlier in the year I gave birth to grief. At first I was numb with shock and then, like a scab peeling away from a wound, agony broke through - it was a physical yielding up of my mind and body over which I had no control. The only experience I can compare it to is labour; giving birth to a child is a whole experience of the mind, body and spirit. In the same way, entering into mourning is to be fully occupied by anguish without remainder - there is no aspect of one's self that is untouched. So...each day is a baby step into something new - evolving into a different life, unchosen and gladly given up. To be widowed young is to experience the world's disapproval - there is something uniquely shocking in untimely death to the modern psyche that requires containment and management. The widow and her children are not welcome - their tears and terrible, desperate need are a challenge too great for most to bear. So, it is best to be prepared - society will give us a little time, but not much. Once we are past our 'grieve-by-date', concealment is our best option.