My Featured Blogger this week is the creator of yellowlamplight. I don’t know her name, but more and more I feel I know her character. Which is? Well, to quote her, “I adore [life], but I don’t trust it. I never let my guard down.”
She is compassionate and wonderfully articulate, a lover of life, but sometimes a jilted one–as are we all in the end. And yet, when life returns, she welcomes it back. To read her is to discover ourselves. Because, as she says on her About page, “I am a writer. It is the one thing I know for sure.”
She is indeed.
I had that thought the other day–that my grief was a three year old. I smiled. I couldn’t help it. The comparison was too humorous. Too true.
My grief really is a three year old in every way that it can be. It is headstrong and determined to have its’ own way. It, no matter how much I beg or threaten, refuses to just sit quietly and not disturb anyone. It picks the worst times to make a scene and, most importantly, it is something I never quite understand. I try to make friends with it and get us both to a place where we can operate in cooperation, but just when I think we are making headway it surprises me by doing the opposite of what I expect. Then, in that moment, when I am exhausted by trying to control and manage it I have to just give in…
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