I tell myself, “Some days it’s okay to grieve.” I can’t hold my sadness back every day. Heck, most days sadness doesn’t register on my emotional barometer. But when too many moments string themselves together—in which I’m brutally reminded of no longer being able to do what I once did—and hit me, I fall. Into grieving. Into sadness. It’s a process that I don’t know if I’ll ever be done with.
Today the sun peeks through the clouds, and the wind sashays the trees to a light howling whine. This is the kind of day I’d like to go for a walk with Ruby, my doggie companion. I envision rounding the curve of the walking trail where the earth meets the sky and imagined, magical possibilities await me. When we would crest the hill, the usual panoramic view appeared, and the wind against my face always felt like a kiss from God.
I must remember and imagine this scene now, because my legs can’t take me there anymore. Some days I barely manage to totter around the house.
I allow myself to mourn, but not for long. I must live life. I choose not to heavily dwell on what has been lost. How do I turn it around? One word: gratitude.
I count my blessings for what I can still experience. I can see the clouds and trees and the evidence of the wind upon them. I can feel the windy kiss on my cheek even if I’m only sitting on the deck in a chair. I can hear the sound of the wind through the tree branches, howling a low whine like a ghosts wail. I can imagine making it up the hill, Ruby ahead of me pulling on the leash.
Gratitude makes even the grieving days manageable. Whatever grief you might be experiencing or remembering today, I hope you can form it into gratitude instead.