11/30/2022
The stages of grief
take the stage
fighting for a chance
to bask in the spotlight of your absence.
Denial steps up,
“There’s nothing to see here.
It’s a mistake, mistake,
go home,
nothing to see,
it’s only a mistake”,
frantically calling
for the production to cease.
Anger storms the stage,
pushes denial away
pushes everyone away
Yelling it’s not fair.
No one understands.
No one stays.
Scrutinizing the words
and comfort thrown her way.
None of it matters.
None of it changes the outcome.
Anger is easier than the pain.
Anger is easier.
But bargaining sees a window
and asks anger,
“Did you call?
Did you do enough?
Could you have been there sooner?
Were you too late?
So quick to anger,
but were you quick to action?
It doesn’t sound like it,
It doesn’t sound like it...”
Depression asks the director
to cut the lights
so she has time to sit in the darkness,
to get used to the lack
the loss
the light that’s gone forever
the light that can’t come back
the light that hurts when its memory
hits the shattered surface
of her heart.
Dim the lights.
There is no light...
Acceptance waits.
Sits in the dark alongside depression,
just sits down next to her and waits.
Lets her cry
lets her ask why
lets her process,
sits beside her
as long as she needs, as long as it takes
And when they are ready,
acceptance gently welcomes them all
to take a seat,
to watch a lifetime of memories
dance alongside them,
the grief intermingling with a deep gratitude
for each moment that she was granted. moments deepened by grief
but never taken away.
moments that comfort and remain long after they’re gone
Memories that enrich what comes next
Memories that honor the love and the loss
Memories that outlast the pain
So that the curtains may fall
Along with the tears
So that the stages
May come and go
And the grief may ebb and flow
And we may face emotions
Along the way
We don’t yet now,
But there’s no time-line
Or prescribed stages
No “too fast” or “too slow”
And we’ll hold the hurt and the
Healing in both hands
Knowing how much this part mattered.
Our unique pain.
Our unique process.
It all mattered.
Liz Newman
