for what or for whom do you grieve?
This weekend is the one-year anniversary of the weekend I spent with my friend, Nina, while she died. Three nights. And a year ago, I had my hardest night this evening, as she frantically tried to tell me something, her voice gone, her ability to write gone. Just a wisp of a person after being ravaged by Lou Gehrig's disease, ALS, she pulled me on top of her on her death bed, holding me tight, her eyes wide, wild. Gesturing, gesturing wildly toward the ceiling, looking into me and through me as she panicked. This was the hardest night, the long one, the one during which the chaplain was roused from his bed at 4am to come pray over her.
This photo was taken at Nina's funeral. We placed objects and photos on a table for people to remember, and to remember her by. This old doll was one of a very few things Nina asked me to pack for her move into the nursing home where she died. What are the things we keep? What are the things that fall away?
I’m currently writing a book called “The Geography of Loss.” It’s about navigating our way into loss and grief, exploring the geography of the lands we find there, sometimes setting up camp for a while, and then emerging into new lands. It is about creating our own atlas of experience.
I've created a new space for people to share their answers to this question: for what or for whom do you grieve?
Your answers can be anonymous, unless you include your name at the end of your post. You can include 400 words or so, photos, and short videos. Whatever needs saying, say it. What has been shared so far is heart-breaking and heart-making. It speaks of loss of all kinds, not just death. I hope you'll join in the conversation.