Sometimes…

Sometimes grief is overwhelming, especially when so much of it is lingering about the house.

Sometimes you are consciously able to break grief into the sum of its parts: loss, anger or fury, denial, desire, the desperate need to reconcile the coexistence of relief and sadness, and exhaustion—mental and physical.

Sometimes you just pour out your soul with tears and sobs.

Sometimes you just have to suck it up and handle the business part of loss.

Sometimes you just hold on so tight that the object of your love and grief wriggles to get away from you.

Sometimes other people just wriggle to get away from you.

Sometimes you just lay prostrate and pray without ceasing.

Sometimes you question whether you really have the faith necessary to lift those prayers up.

Sometimes you are speechlessly grateful for caring, compassionate, empathetic people who remind you that there is goodness in the world.

Sometimes you look behind you to remind yourself of all the progress, just so you don’t forget that growth is real.

Sometimes it is the porcupine that gives you the hug you needed.

Sometimes you remember that your faith didn’t stumble.

Sometimes you look around the house and see the growing list of repairs that you need to take care of but just can’t muster the umph to do it.

Sometimes you remember that you were supposed to be pushing out two publications this month.

Sometimes you are so pained and unfocused.

Sometimes you love so much and love isn’t enough to seemingly change anything.

Sometimes you’re just in a state of fury.

Sometimes things and people just aren’t what you wish they were.

Sometimes you don’t want to forgive (again).

Sometimes you have to beg for judgment free acceptance.

Sometimes you trade cookies and wine #TreatYoSelf moments for time on the yoga mat, breathing through some sun salutations. #nocalTreatYoSelf

Sometimes those quiet moments of practice allow you to just be open.

Sometimes you can let some of the hurt and righteous indignation seep away.

Sometimes you can find hope in the mess that surrounds you.

Sometimes you can feel the dispatch of the Holy Homeboy’s Holy Spirit surround you with much needed comfort.

Sometimes you can hear and feel the ancestors exhorting that it will be ok; they are waiting for their delivery and will cherish it.

Sometimes you can pray for peace and really embrace it and hope others will as well.

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About AdoptiveBlackMom

I'm a single Black professional woman living in the DC area. I adopted tween a few years ago, and this blog chronicles our journey. Feel free to contact me at adoptiveblackmom@gmail.com, on Facebook at Adoptive Black Mom, and on Twitter @adoptiveblkmom. ©www.AdoptiveBlackMom.com, 2013-2017. All rights reserved. (Don't copy my ish without credit!) View all posts by AdoptiveBlackMom

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