Wearing the Jacket of Grief in the New Year
A year and a half ago I lost my grandmother to old age and a snapped spine. Her death was not a surprise, but you know what I mean when I say, one is never quite ready. I was in class focusing on a drama therapy lesson-in-action when I was shown a message by the administrator. It had come from my mother or my partner, I don't even remember who. There it was and there I was - giddy with a grief that choked me right up to my eyes. One moment I was excusing myself, addressing my teacher and the next, my knees were giving way in a room looming like a bottomless galaxy. Cut to now, when I can write about that day like it was just a mere scene, looping. Cut to the present, months later, when I have the ease of looking back at how I have healed. But that's the thing about grief. Stay with it, acknowledge it, allow it to air and it finds a way to tuck itself in. What also must be said is that grief isn't such a state of maturity when it is actually happening. Last night, ...