Sometimes people come and go, opportunities are missed, things are never said, or said exactly as one had hoped, stumbled over clumsy words and feelings, hoping to get it straight the next time when we — lost in a single moment.
That’s when Grief comes knocking at the door, and we have no choice — we must let him in.
But we are the ones who choose how to grieve, however messy it may be, for this is a private matter, and its length is undetermined.
And we do have access, a glimpse of things we do not see — at least not consciously — what was once a person grieving on the other side, and who cannot be consoled, and cannot let go of those they loved. Or we can be the ones on the other side, sitting and waiting, grieving on the floor, searching for that door — until we don’t.
There’s nothing exotic here. These are the dimensions of dreams. We don’t need to hire charlatans to tell us what we already know: that those who are no longer with us will always be with us, regardless of what is on the other side — which depends on our beliefs.
And only the foolish would try to strike a deal with Time, help us lessen or shorten our suffering, give us a timeline, a clock, something to grasp.
But Time has no interest in us. Even as specs of dust. The best we can expect is —complete indifference. And yet, time does play a vital role among the living.
There are no bargains to be made. There are no instruction manuals for grief — although many have undoubtedly profited handsomely from making such claims — and there is no escape.
However, we assume only the living grieve for those who are no longer amongst us. But have we ever considered those who are standing at the door are also grieving for those they will leave behind?
