The Grief Stick

 I got hit today. Usually I would say, "smacked upside the head" is the colloquialism that comes to mind, though I don't know that the imagery for it fits. Sucker punched in the heart may be more fitting though it certainly wasn't as physical of a sensation as that would imply. 

Perhaps I should think of it more as a tripping. That I relate to infinitely more. I tripped over my Grief Stick. 

    Do you know that it is a walking staff? It's something I carry with me, proverbially of course. I can imagine what it would look like though, in my mind's eye. It's a weathered piece, washed over by waves, something salvaged on an old adventure, long forgotten, when I was younger and all I could see was its beauty and not the potential usefulness. And it has become useful in this life, been notched and grooved over a few decades of use now, many moves and countless years of intermittent strolls when I've leaned on it and worn it in places from being stored time and again, out of sight.  

I must have found it in the last move, March 13, 2022, and placed it nearby to tend me when I needed its support the most. I know it is a cumbersome thing at times, gangly with a knobby knot like a knee in the middle. As helpful as it can be to bend toward it, the awkwardness of its shape doesn't lend itself to fitting into my everyday life. Just like my actual grief, it can be ungainly to carry and awfully ugly to have on display. And oh the irony, when forgotten, that it can be misplaced and nearly tucked away, taking all but one little tip and a misstep to trip and fall over it when least expected. 

So it caught me by surprise today when I wasn't looking for it. 6 months to the day, though I didn't look at the calendar until this moment, but my body remembered how life should be and rolled me through the somersault again of heart break. I sat for a moment on the cold tile floor after the fall, collected my thoughts while I let the tears tumble too. 

I hadn't been looking for it. I had been able to set it down occasionally over the last few months, pretend when professional that I didn't need to have a support at all. I've even been able to leave it behind a few times to feel a little footloose and fancy free. And perhaps I even thought for a bit that it was unnecessary altogether, that I had regained my balance, had great footing and was on solid ground again. 

How timely a reminder then, what a happy accident, this lapse to bring me back to center and balance. Hello again, my Grief Stick, thank you for being here to pick me back up and help me to carry on.