AUGUST 2
We cannot do everything at once but we can do something
at once.
—CALVIN COOLIDGE
When we are grieving we are often beset by a kind of lassit-
ude. We feel flattened, devoid of energy. It’s all we can do
to get through the day and fall into bed hoping for the obli-
vion of sleep.
It’s fine to take some time to rest, to let the wells of energy
and resolve begin to fill up again. But what if, many months
later, we are still dragging, still lethargic?
It is important to know what is going on. Barring illness
(which we should always check for—people who are
grieving have a disproportionate chance of getting sick),
perhaps our lethargy is a form of denial: if I don’t move,
maybe it won’t be so.
It is hard to shake loose of such a feeling. But we can, by
starting with one thing. Buying some seeds to plant a garden.
Baking bread. Visiting a neighbor. Anything to break the
logjam of inactivity. It may seem as fateful as that first “giant
step” out of the capsule and into space.
I cannot bear to look down the long road of years without my loved
one. But I don’t have to. I have today. And I will, today, do one
new thing.