My mind can only compare grief to a roller coaster. As cliche as it sounds, grief is all about the up and downs. It strikes right when we think we have come up the last hill and made it to a plateau. But if there is one thing I know about plateaus is that they are usually accompanied by step drops.
Just recently while at work I had a coworker find out about the passing of a family member. While I won’t go into detail about the specifics of what happened, that is his families personal business and they need time to grieve, I will tell you a little about my job. I work on a fancy charter bus in Dallas called Vonlane, check it out it is really an awesome way to travel in luxury. One thing about the bus is that we are driving from one destination to the next and so we are not able to stop working at any moment. When it comes to dealing with personal issues or a difficult passenger we have to be on our A game the whole time. So when something devastating happens that is outside of our control and grief hits you, you have nowhere to go but the seat you sit in.
To lose someone, in any shape or form, hurts our hearts. Every photograph of them we see brings a rush of sorrow and happiness, for we will never see them again, yet thankful for the captured moment. Every place we visit they once accompanied us to feels like an invisible barrier has glossed over the place and if we just walk through it they will be waiting for us, landmarks of the places we shared. Every scent, touch, taste, sight, or sound that reminds us of them brings a sensory attack that rushes into the head like too much blood.
Grief isn’t fair, grief is a nasty thing that pokes at us when we feel a loss. But grief helps us move forward. It’s a game that rages internally, our mind and body fighting to stay on the side of composure. But grief is there to keep punching us all the way to the ground. Grief fills our insides rushing along with our blood to the organs that keep us alive, filling those organs with its heavy lead. Grief attacks our bones sometimes making us feel immune to whats around and others like needles drilling in. Grief consumes us, grief becomes us.
Everyone griefs differently, but we all grief on the same roller coaster. My friend know this, every steep hill and every sharp drop you take you have people waiting at along the sides to help you through the process. Whether that be a hug, silent person to sit with, or a shoulder to cry. Grief, as my mind understands, is a roller coaster we have trouble seeing the end of.