Title: Grief is a Mother, Too | overlaid on an image of Miranda and Elephant on the coast at sunset (Synch Media)
Grief is a Mother, Too (Write Your Grief)

2 Feb 2018 – Grief is a Mother, Too

Grief is a Mother, too. She Understands.

Death has never been my friend. Nobody wants to face Grief. Nobody wants to understand Death. The necessity of her existence is no more comfort than my own. I don’t hate her, but I look at her the way she looks at Disease. We are all harbingers. We all bring Pain.

 

I slip in sideways, just after Shock. Her job, at least, is sometimes good. It’s also shorter–she gets to flit away afterwards and dance with the thunderstorms.

My job is more complicated. I don’t dance; I sidle. I ooze in to fill the cracks. I soak up sun light with darkness. I choke away everything but Pain.

Nobody wants to face Grief. Nobody wants to understand Death. I have to create this environment because without darkness, my voice is too soft.

I stroke her cheek. I sing to her. Sometimes I bring Memory and we sing together. Memory is one of my favorite people, because inside her, everyone lives. But Memory’s best friend is Future, and Future does nothing for me.

When Memory has finished singing, and Future has released her dreams, Reality comes. And that’s when I’m most needed.

Who better to understand the emptiness? Who better to hold her through screams? Who better to wail with her keening? Who better; who better than me?

I won’t ever tell her she’s whining. I won’t say he’s in a “better place.” I won’t condemn her if she reaches for me in 10 years; I’ll be here. I will reach for her too.

And I tell her, “There won’t always be darkness. When my voice is familiar, some light will seep in. When my voice is familiar, you will make friends with Joy. She’s waiting for you. She’s best friends with Patience.”

And I tell her, “Come meet my twin sister. Though you already know her, she lives inside you. She lives in the Love that you hold for your child. And that’s where I met you, where I’ll always find you.”

And I want to say more that is comforting, but that isn’t my duty; it wouldn’t be real. I exist as her constant reminder of the unwanted power and permanence of Death. And if I had a choice, I would shield her from everything. I would shoulder her suffering, and soak up her tears. But that too is denied me. I can only hold her, sing duets with Memory, remind her of Pain. I can only live here, her constant companion, as long as she’ll let me, as long as she Loves.

Related Posts:

Miranda’s Story: Life as a Grieving Mother
Topics Page: Grief Positivity
Topics Page: Death Positivity

Downloadable Graphics:

.

Posts written in response to prompts from Megan Devine’s Refuge in Grief writing program.
Return to Write Your Grief Homepage

Share this post via:

Memories (Write Your Grief) | overlaid on image of Miranda on the California coast at sunset (Synch Media)

18 Feb 2018 – Memories

24 March 2021 – The One I Avoided Last Time

Miranda on the California coast (Synch Media)

21 Jun 2018 – The After

Miranda on the Pacific Coast 2 - Feature

10 Feb 2018 – This is How I Feel About Life

North Star Resort - Feature

20 Feb 2018 – Flight

Miranda on the shore of Lake Tahoe, California (photo used with permission)

23 Aug 2018 – Windows

Limp hand holding a cell phone

26 Mar 2019 – The Worst Thing that Never Happened

Sunset over the Pacific 1 - Feature

26 Feb 2018 – Nuclear Bomb Part 2

31 March 2021 – Clarity

17 March 2021 – Who I Used to Be

30 March 2021 – The 13th Guest

Sleeping Giant Trail 1 - Feature

25 Feb 2018 – That Day

Chalk drawings on the sidewalk (Miranda Hernandez)

18 Mar 2018 – Someone Else’s Birthday

4 April 2021 – Memories Part 2

30 March 2021 – Subsumed Grief

20 March 2021 – The Absence of Memory

Keālia Beach 2 - Feature

20 Feb 2018 – Unspoken

Birds on the Pacific Coast in California - Feature

22 Feb 2018 – Fuck

Tree branch in California - Feature

5 Feb 2018 – Akhilandeshvari

Julia Pfeiffer Burns Plant1 - Feature

7 Feb 2018 – Tests

Keālia Beach 1 - Feature

8 Feb 2018 – Prickly

Sunlight through the trees, North Lake Tahoe, California (Miranda Hernandez)

25 Aug 2018 – Amy Anne

Incline Village, North Lake Tahoe - Feature

20 Feb 2018 – Time

Miranda with Adrian's First Blanket - SQ

2 Feb 2018 – Elephant Onesies

27 March 2021 – Community

Seagulls on the California coast (Miranda Hernandez)

27 May 2018 – Fairytales

Lakeside in Incline Village 3

14 Feb 2018 – I love you. Please.

Lakeside in Incline Village, North Lake Tahoe, Nevada (Miranda Hernandez)

13 Feb 2018 – The Condition of My Heart

Palm trees over the Pacific Ocean - Feature

7 Feb 2018 – Beauty

22 March 2021 – Kindness…

31 Jan 2018 – Choice

Title: My Personal Experience with Grief | overlaid on an image of Miranda in Kaua'i (Luna Kai Photography)

29 Jan 2018 – Grief

24 March 2021 – Emulation

Pinecrest Lake 1 - Feature

26 Feb 2018 – The Nuclear Bomb

18 March 2021 – What I Wish You Knew

26 March 2021 – Landscape

Amy's collar (Miranda Hernandez)

12 Sep 2018 – Three Dishes

Wide angle view of Miranda standing on a deserted beach in California at sunset. She is wearing a pink kimono fluttering in the breeze (Synch Media)

30 Jan 2018 – The Second Death

Sunset on the California coast (Miranda Hernandez)

2 Jun 2018 – Peace

Close up of Miranda and Adrian in the hospital after Adrian's birth. Both of their eyes are closed, and Miranda is holding Adrian's hand

6 Feb 2018 – Regret

Hiking the Sleeping Giant Trail, Kapaa, Kaua'i, Hawai'i

3 Feb 2018 – The Kindest Thing

A Letter from the In-Between (Write Your Grief) | overlaid on image of Miranda staring off into the distance (Synch Media)

28 Jul 2018 – A Letter from the In-Between

Matthiola flowers on the California coast (Miranda Hernandez)

26 Sep 2018 – Dear Grace

Sunset over the California desert, with highway signs in the distance (Miranda Hernandez)

1 Feb 2018 – Photos

Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park, Big Sur, California (Miranda Hernandez)

22 May 2018 – I only write to ghosts. You must be one of them.

A seagull over the Pacific Ocean - Feature

9 Feb 2018 – No

Title: A Letter to My Fellow Bereaved | overlaid on an image of the California coast (Miranda Hernandez)

18 Feb 2018 – I Love You

A Letter to My Belly (Write Your Grief) | overlaid on image of Miranda making a heart on her belly (Synch Media)

24 Feb 2018 – A Letter to My Belly after the Stillbirth of my Firstborn Child

21 March 2021 – Does Grief Mourn?

19 March 2021 – Where I Live Now

The first blanket and baby toy Miranda purchased for Peanut (Miranda Hernandez)

29 Oct 2018 – Baby Things

Miranda on the California coast (Miranda Hernandez)

28 May 2018 – Planet Miranda

Sunset over Arizona - Feature

12 Feb 2018 – Hard Things

Explore more of Adrian's Elephant

Scroll to Top