heart. breaking.

i find myself back at these pages after many weeks away.

this is a familiar place...

i don't know why i am here. other than it was here that i learned before how to write my way through grief. and so it feels like a kind of harbour. a strange harbour.
i am retreating. again. buckling under.
so much stronger now than i once was... but these present days are marked by loss and distance with an aching that sucks the air from my lungs with its strength. how easily we can forget what raw grief feels like...

this is a hurting place...

things have changed... i am sitting at a different table. back in northern ireland. i have found the stumbling fragments of belief... something that is something like something like faith... said goodbye... and goodbye... and goodbye...

this is a lonely place...

and as i trawl slowly through these pages pretending i am more than existing, i find myself pausing to pin this scrap of paper to the door post. one more attempt at writing my way through...

this is a surviving place...

we do it letter by letter. scrap by scrap. learning what love is by the measure of its cost.

this is a bereft place...

but somehow we will be transformed in it.

somehow amidst tears something will be birthed.

LB