Personification of Grief

She’s that annoying friend that never leaves. She just can’t take the hint.

She sits in the passenger seat of my car and plays DJ with my emotions.

I ask her politely to wait there until I’m done. But she can’t.

I see her reflection through the window on my computer screen, her eyes burrowing holes through my soul.

She is competitive and loves to play games.

As I struggle to wash the dishes and fold laundry she sits on my shoulders playing chicken against my will.

She spins circles around me as I cook. She is so energetic, is it utterly draining.

I take my list and venture into the store. Hopeful I can get in and out as quickly as possible.

She meanders through the isles, pouncing out at me as I turn the corner. I cannot escape!

When I run into friends she has to introduce herself.

She talks over me, cutting me off mid-sentence. I swallow hard, hoping the lump in my throat will recede.

I try to get away, take a bath, find some privacy.

Grief does not know privacy.

She sits on the side of the tub swirling the bubbles around and telling me stories.

Sometimes we will sit together and have tea.

Looking out over the mountains we reflect through tears and laughter.

She puts her arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close.

For a second, I am not bothered by her embrace. I close my eyes and imagine a portal to heaven, I can almost reach out and touch it.

Grief sometimes brings me gifts too.

She finds messages in handwriting and photos of the past.

She gently hands them to me and stands back.

I take a deep breath as the emotional wave comes over me.

She lets me have a moment of joy before she holds my face in her hands and the pain returns.