Grief Landscape

Grief has its own landscape.

It is not always the roads and open doors that others are quick to describe.

My mind and heart do not travel those places.

My soul cannot.

Instead, the landscape of my widow's life is quieter.

There is a lantern that lights the darkness when the night feels long.

There is a small table where grief, loss, faith and hope sit together

- sometimes steady, sometimes trembling.

There is a cup of coffee where memories rise like steam in the early morning hours.

Ivy climbs slowly along the edges of the days, reminding me that life grows in quiet ways.

Now and then, a flutterby passes through

- carrying with it a moment of unexpected beauty.

There are distant mountains I have not yet reached, that tease my future self.

And there is a shoreline where grief comes and goes like the tide.

Sometimes, there is only the shadow of a tree

- offering me a place to sit for a while, just to remember.

This is the landscape where I now live.

It was shaped by great love.

And by great loss.

But still, Hope is my companion and we find a moment to rest.