It’s not like I plan to do anything, but when I begin to unpack and clean my bedroom and I set my glass of wine down on the vanity next to the steak knife I was using to cut open boxes earlier in the week, I freeze. Glancing at a glass of wine next to a knife only moments after I have sat sobbing uncontrollably and unconsolably draped over a box of pictures of Chris, is a sobering experience.
Blood-Red Wine and Pain
Red wine, like blood, shimmering in the days last glimmers of sunlight
The silver blade glimmering, shimmering
Just like the blood of the fruit beside it
Can I see past the blood and the blade
And look toward the sunlight?
The sunlight gradually becoming evening
Then night?
Black as my heart of glass
Filled with the blood of the fruit
Pumping blood-wine into my heart of glass
Keep it coming
Flowing into my heart and glowing like the vanishing sun
Just keep it coming
The light of a new morning waits just around the clock
Hold on, Shneed, hold on.
Pain is the univited guest to this little cocktail party
Needling me in between every last laugh
Pain, laughter, pain, laughter pain, laughter
p a i n
I forced myself to break the freeze this weekend and unpack and set up my bedroom and begin to assemble my computer desk. Grief is a powerful emotion. It can stop elephants in their tracks. It can stop me.
I go to some pretty dark places on a regular basis these days. But I also go to some pretty light places. The light outweigh the dark in numbers but man, the dark sure outweigh the light in weight.
Shneed
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Speaking specifically to the questions below you pose - which were of keen interest to me... The answer is Hope, not to be confused with love, the very reason God separates the two. He keeps them very distinct from one another because they are two unique gifts. They are just that - gifts. And you held on to hope, not wishful thinking. Wishful thinking is like daydreaming. Hope is living the dream.
ReplyDeleteMaybe it has always been wishful thinking on my part.
Why do we hold onto life the way we do? What causes a person to willingly subject him/herself to hours and hours and days and months and years of poisonous injections when there is no guarantee that life will prevail? Love would be my reason. I love many people unconditionally and I would subject myself to a lot of pain if I thought there was even a sliver of a chance that I could stay with them a while longer. Chris did that for all of us and for himself.
In this uncertain, ever-changing, enigmatic world we live in, what the hell else ever matters besides love?