DECEMBER 22
Every bone in my body aches individually with a dragging
weariness of pain, and the joints cry aloud for a warm balm;
honeyed oil, to be poured, engulfing me, into the rusty
sockets. Soporifics, drugs, nectars, elixirs, etc., I want them
all; anything to transform me, to make me different, to forget
myself even for a second.
—CAITLIN THOMASSound familiar? If we could just get out of our skin, be
someone else’s awareness. If we could just forget about this
terrible loss for a little while.
But when we do forget—in sleep or some other diver-
sion—the return is so painful that the temporary reprieve
is hardly worth it.
What are we to do?
Be careful. Careful not to do something destructive of
ourselves—like overindulge in alcohol or tranquilizers.
Careful of our general health and safety.
And then bear with the suffering, knowing that, incredible
though it may seem now, it will ease.
Something my son once said comes to mind. It was not
long after his sister had died in an accident, and our whole
family was terribly distraught. In the midst of his grief, and
from some pool of wisdom to which he had access, he calmly
said, “It’ll take time, but we’ll feel good again.”
It’ll take time, but I’ll feel good again.