Thursday, September 16, 2010


Spent the last hour or so on her blog. Her daughter was killed by a rogue wave, with her daughter's husband as witness. Her words have got me crying today in a way I haven't, and that "haven't" has been wrecking me. Tenderness is what I need, and tenderness is what smashes me most. Her blog adds my father-in-law's pain to my own today, and I can't hold on to them both, but it also, oddly, helps. Matt was his whole word, along with his grandson. Ray can't talk to me. Can't see me. It is too painful for him. I talk to his wife, and I am so glad and thankful for her.

Anyway. Though she lost her daughter, not her Love, her words are so specific, so perfect, so awful and hard and beautiful.

I have to stop crying. I have to go outside. I have to do something with the stupid cup of this day. As she says, "this is the land I have been given to walk." (I mean, to mix my metaphors.)

1 comment:

  1. You know Megan, while each type of grief is different, we can't help but identify with that intense pain. How heartbreaking to lose a child, at any age. I have watched Michael's mother grieve for him, and it has been heartbreaking.

    I know that you were feeling the pain in this woman's story on many levels. Sometimes it's good to use someone's words as a vehicle to experience your own grief on a new level, and maybe that is why this touched you so. I think every little bit helps, even though it hurts.

    Love to you.