The Grieving Stone

I find myself today, October 13th, the date my daughter left this earth at the age of 17, pondering the journey I’ve been on since her passing. The evolution of who I am. Who I used to be. They are not the same.

In the early years, I would stay in bed all day and cry myself to sleep. Eventually I began to do “other” things on this day to distract myself from the what I like to call “grief swirl” that whirled around me the entire day; hell, even months. As the years pass and my life has changed, I grieve differently. The “grief swirl” still comes but I’ve grown weary from grief. I’m tired of feeling the sorrow that sticks in my throat as this day approaches. This is the burden we grievers must carry until our last breath but we don’t have to like it.

As I think back at the process of grief, I feel its starts out like a rock with hard edges covered in dirt. The feelings and emotions are hard and so difficult to see your way clear of the fog that has fallen over your life. Then as you begin to learn about grief and how to manage through the learnings from experienced grievers; books written by experts in the field of grief; the rock becomes less dirty and a little softer around the edges. The hard work is smoothing out the rock into a smooth, beautiful stone. Perhaps this is why, I’m fascinated by smooth black stones when I happen to come across them at the beach. It represents the hard work I’ve put in over the years.

Yes, while I may be tired of this grief, I understand it will always be with me for the rest of my days. It’s been harder than I ever imagined, still is; but the person I was needed that polishing. Preparation for something else, another role, a different life – to be a light for others. I’m not sure why God entrusted me for that and I’ll be sure to ask when I meet Him one day. 

To my darling daughter Brittany, I spend every day looking forward to seeing you again. Until then rest peacefully with the angels.

Until next time,


2 thoughts on “The Grieving Stone

  1. Thank you for this, so beautifully written.I feel exactly the same way.  It comes in waves, but as more years pass the pain has never lessened.  I really do appreciate all your emails and thank you for keeping me on your mailing list. Sarah

  2. Thank you Sarah. I am humbled that you follow my blog. I’m so sorry you are on this journey too.

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