When Life Becomes Real
One of the many moods of grief is a kind of numbness, a pain so deep and pervasive that nothing seems to be able to ripple its surface. This perhaps is a benign form of anesthesia, giving our senses time to rest a bit before we reenter the whirlpool of torn lives, of shattered dreams, of anguished tears. As will all other moods of grief, it will pass. To know this is just a stoic acceptance of what it is. It is to be reminded that there are seasons of grieving -- and like the plunge into frost after a balmy day of spring, or like an Indian summer, these mini-seasons are not predictable. But they will pass, and they have their own inner logic. Sometimes the best we can do is say, "Okay, That's how it is today. What can I do that is most compatible with this mood?" Then, we go on about whatever business (or lack of) tha...