I usually don’t like these things…
…but this passage about homicide grief which comes via Dan Levey in Arizona really speaks to me (especially the passage about symbols replacing words).
I post it here in consideration of Doreen Drummond who I know is still struggling with the death of her daughter Kelly Anne who was murdered just under a year ago in Montreal (and for Chantel Dupont and Maurice Marcil; long taken from us, but not forgotten).
The aftermath of murder takes us straight through hell where we stand eye to eye with the evil that hides behind human faces, and what we do in the face of that evil— defines for us what lies behind our own face.
Homicide Grief is the yearing to say one last good-bye. Grief is clenching your teeth until you have a headache that won’t go away. Grief is a field of fog and distance where we wander lost and aimless. Grief is dreaming about our loved one and not being able to think of anything else. Grief is wondering why fate chose them and not me. Grief is the fear of living with the loss, and fear of losing more. Grief is the identify crisis that ensues when we lose those who help define who we are, how we live, and how we relate to one another. Grief is panning through memories over and over searching for jewels. It is looking at old family pictures and yearning for that day so long ago in the past.
Grief is wondering where your loved one really is, and if they can see you, hear you, or read your mind. Grief is waving or calling to them just in case. Grief is forging signs and symbols to replace the words you can no longer share. Grief is knowing the rainbow that shouldn’t scientifically exist on a cloudy day is a message to you saying “I DO EXIST”.
Grief is hearing that special song on the radio and knowing your loved one is with you. Grief is having to look into your nine-year old nieces eyes and try to explain why her daddy is never coming home. Grief is sitting in bed crying in the middle of the night saying “God I miss you.” Grief is discovering pieces of what was lost, in places you don’t expect. Grief is grasping opportunities to connect, to share, to care that you might have otherwise left for tomorrow, because you are ever mindful now that there may be no tomorrow. Grief is being able to better disitinguish what is really important and meaningful after all is said and done, and chossing to do more of it. Grief is the yearing, the reaching, the unrequited love that hides behind our loses. Grief truly is a tribute to the depth of your love.
The great Nobel Prize winning author and holocaust survivor Ellie Weissel said
“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”