If sadness could speak, she would say, “I’m sorry, forgive me.”
I’m sorry that it was me who appeared on your doorstep instead of love. But I’m made of love too. After all, just because there is so much love in you, I can hurt you so much when you lose the one you love.
If sadness could speak, it would say, “You can survive.”
I know – you will think not. I know life can sometimes be meaningless without those who are gone. I know now the earth is gone from under your feet. I know part of you died with them.
And I know that you will survive. One breath, one minute at a time, day after day.
If sadness could speak, she would say, “Please don’t hide me.”
I know people will feel uncomfortable when they see me with you. I know your friends are at a loss for what to say. I know it’s easier for you to hide me when guests come and sit at the table.
I am not a disease, I am what I am. Sadness. A very important part of your life
But I would like to be with you too. Will you allow me to speak? Will you listen to me?
I cannot promise that I will be calm and polite. I can speak loudly because there is anger in me. Or I may burst into tears – but if I do, I won’t have to look for a place to hide it all inside you.
I would like to create more space there, inside, for all of us, so that we can be close and coexist. You, me, love, anger, laughter, peace, hope, joy … For all of us there is a place in your heart.
If sadness could speak, she would say: “I love you. You may not love me, but I love you. “
I love that you can love so much. I love that you continue to take care of your children who have lost a parent.
I love that you continue to care about the image of the one you loved, about his memory, even if he is already gone. How you leave his favorite book on the table, his things neatly stacked, – how you allow loved ones to live longer with you in those things that remain after them.
I love how you keep the world from forgetting that they were here, that they mattered, that they are part of you. I love you.
If sadness could speak, it would say, “Find your way.”
There are many experts out there who know everything about me. They will say: I have stages, I have to go through them – as if I am something to be cured of, like the flu.
I am not a disease, I am what I am. Sadness. A very important part of your life, and there is no right or wrong way to test me. There is only one way – yours.
Different people experience me differently. No two are alike. Let’s find our own way to cry together and heal wounds together. Find your way in this short and wonderful life.
About the author: Monique Meinehen is a writer, yoga teacher, and leads yoga therapy groups for people who have lost loved ones.
We all have to experience the loss of loved ones one day. There is not a single person who has escaped this. Although we all would very much like to be such a person. Grieving is natural, but very unpleasant. It seems that this experience will never end. It’s bad for us, bad for the people around us, we don’t know what to do with the feelings that overwhelm us, those around us don’t know how to talk to us, what to do, what not to do. How do you cope with a loss – and can you really cope with it?
Whatever the temptation, we will never be able to easily divide the world into two simple and understandable poles: black and white, positive and negative, and relate to people and events accordingly. Our nature is dual, and we often have dual experiences that are not easy to understand. Our reader tells what contradictory feelings she has about parting with a person she no longer considers close.