Last night, I couldn’t sleep, so I wrote.
“Some nights
His absence is so loud
The silence drowns out
All else
And I can hear nothing
But the gaping hole
He left behind.”
This morning dawned clearer.
I have learned…
Grief allowed is Grief quieted.
It retreats to its usual place as background music to my life.
Sometimes it just needs to break out into an overbearing drum solo to get it out of its system.
Onward!
A Half Hour a Day 