When grief collides with grief, sometimes the only thing I know to do is write…
when the tears retreat with all the energy I have left,
all I know to do is attempt to string words together to make it make sense…
And so it was this afternoon, as I attempted to find a way forward
into productivity…
into movement…
But my mind kept whispering,
“When grief collides…”
and so I sat down to write, finally succumbing to the whispers…
and as I typed the words, I realized…
I had already written them…
After Grammy died and my heart was shattered from the weight of the loss—
not only because she was gone—
because she was my fierce companion…..
because now I had to carry all of the weight of my heartbreak without her…
because she prayed for me, and worried for me, and hoped for me, and cheered for me…
because the grief kept coming and losing her felt unfathomable…
because I took for granted the time I had left…
because if I fall in love one day, I want them to know her…
because love is hard…
because she loved me fiercely.
Because grief’s wounds are many—
some more visible than others,
and often, those less visible, are the ones we struggle to heal…
When a loved one dies, we have something to point to,
and nobody questions the pain we carry.
The world acknowledges, and holds space for our pain—
if even for a moment—
we are seen, we are heard, we are understood…
until we’re not.
But when grief lingers—as it does when love is deep—
or when our grief is for people, places, and things we can’t name
those wounds become invisible,
and we can disappear with them…
retreating from the world,
from connection,
from being seen,
from being known,
from being misunderstood—because how could anyone possibly understand
When grief collides with grief, it’s hard to disentangle the losses, one from the other, and it can feel like vines of grief taking over the decay of the abandoned bones of our soul.
And yet…
This is fertile soil for growth.
This is where we root ourselves in the people, places, and practices that bring us life and joy and strength. This is where we surrender our need to self-protect, our need to control, our need to resist anything and anyone that puts our heart at risk of experiencing one more wound.
This is where we surrender to love, connection, and community.
This is where we surrender to new life.
Uprooted 