Grief in Unexpected Places

There is no formula for grief. A pattern had been suggested–the stages of grief–and I suppose that is the closest we get to a road map. I try to be ready for the memories and reminders, to be gentle with myself, to give myself time and to not make any rash decisions since Farletta passed from this life.

But it’s the unexpected moments that knock my feet out from under me. The moments that blindside you when you think you’ve got everything under control. It’s the seeming innocence of the situation that brings on the grief storm that makes it so brutal. You’ve let your guard down because you think you’ve got it under control. Then … it flattens you.

It’s been five weeks and two days since the last time I saw my beautiful friend, my sweet Farletta. I miss her terribly but am hanging in there. I decided today I’d list a few of her things for sale online. These were items she wore only once or twice. I figured I was safe, I didn’t have an emotional attachment them. But as I was taking pictures for the listing, I unrolled a black leg quilt and there they were, dozens of Farletta hairs stuck to the fabric. I lost it.

The first thing I noticed was how the long winter hairs from her lower legs still shone silver in the light, just like they did when still part of her coat. She was so beautiful. I wondered if I could still catch her scent as the wraps had been rolled up and placed in a bag–I could not. I thought maybe I could pull the hairs off the fabric and keep them but they were so hard to hold on to.

Finally, my body shaking with the pain of her loss, and tears soaked with agony streaming down my face, I hugged the leg quilt tightly to my chest and cried for a long time.

I love her so much. After sixteen years, I don’t know how to be with out her. I also know loss is a part of love, and grief wears many faces. There is no right or wrong way, no true road map, no definitive end of the process. You just get used to existing in a different way, physically apart from the one you lost. I know this, but I am also human, and sometimes all I can feel is what is missing.