Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak
Whispers the o’re-fraught heart, and bids it break.

-William Shakespeare, Macbeth

I stumbled across a series of posts in Slate by Meghan O’Rourke, The Long Goodbye, on how she has been coping with the death of her mother. It’s one of the most honest, poignant and evocative pieces I’ve read recently on the grieving process. I think her being a poet gives her prose so much more depth and meaning in dealing with this most difficult of subjects.

I have been feeling raw this past few days and could not put my finger on any single specific reason. O’Rouke gave me some much needed perspective for which I am grateful.

3 thoughts on “Grieving”

  1. When I grieved over something that was not exactly death (but has something to do with losing) I found a piece of comfort in Tennyson’s In Memoriam, A. H. H.. particularly in these lines:

    It is better to have loved and lost,
    Than to have never loved at all.

    Sadness is a poet’s friend. Yet surely there are better days.

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