or just a moment that ache stills and I feel no pain and that is because I know they are no longer in pain, they are free, and they are dancing with angels.
My brother was 17 months older than me. When he was 7 years old he won silver in the 50m run at the school sports meet. As he crossed the finish line, the wind raced past my ears and a surge of lightness rumbled through the wooden stadium planks. His joys and fears were mine and my hopes and victories were his. I could never truly accept that he was another person.
Grief, for me, is one of the few emotions that are entirely about self. It’s the expression of the agony of being born with one solitary reference frame. Mine. It expresses and touches that hollow core, that once felt, follows throughout life. I feel connected and then some event initiates loss, often the loss reminds me that I, in reality, can never be over there with you or any other sentient being. I find myself in a solitary container again. Grief and suffering are human challenges that may be constant, but the ability to feel those things are also the reason to embrace the joys. Life is bittersweet in turn.