Rainy night

Tears

drop

slowly

Not

as

the

rain

falls

fast

onto

the

willow

Listen to the rain make its melody

Pleasantly onto the willow tree

The tree stands still in its beauty

I wonder about the tree

Does it mind the rain

Oh--my curiosity

As he sits--is he in pain

That poor willow tree

Every day I pray for the willow tree

That he may grow in strength and dignity

That he may love and have a family

In quite some time I haven’t heard the rain melodically

Landing on the heart of the willow tree

---

(Disclaimer: I wrote this essay and then this poem was kind of just birthed from it. I don't know how well the essay reads--if it sounds depressing or narcissistic, but it helped me figure some things out. So feel free to read, but don't hold it against me if it doesn't sound right.)

Amount of Time

It is said, “the amount of time needed for grief is not determined by the magnitude of loss. It is determined by how much your heart was impacted.” Grief is the heart trying to fix itself. In the same way, you have symptoms when your body is trying to fight the flu, your heart needs to be mended from the break. The only difference, and it may be scarier, is that sometimes you don’t even know you are still grieving. Something that happened years ago can still impact you. You may feel like you should’ve gotten over it. Better yet, your mind may be lying to you telling you that you have gotten over it. That’s why you need to search your heart, your emotions, and tune your brain into thinking what your heart is saying. The idea that time heals all wounds is a simple lie. It gives hope that we will get better just by forgetting, but forgetting is not healing. You heal by facing the emotional turmoil, facing the heartache, and choosing to mend it. It isn’t easy. In fact, it may be the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but it is worth it.

The worst part about grief is that you want it to end. You want the flu to end, so you take medicine. Making the grief end is as easy as asking it to leave, or filling the hole that was left with other things. You make things up about why you shouldn’t grieve anymore. You may say “it is better this way,” “it is loving to do this,” “I was told to,” “there is no other option.” These phrases may be true, but what about focusing on the grief. In all of its hurt, allowing it to manifest a little. Allowing yourself to cry, mourn, and heal. The amount of loss doesn’t determine how broken your heart is, your love does. The more you loved the thing you lost the more it hurts to lose. Allow yourself to remember the love you had. Don’t try to love something else with the goal of stopping the grief. Allow space for healing.