Talking to you…My bite 1/3/20

A fellow griever (Nikki Pennington) posted a poem this morning, Miss Me, But Let Me Go by Edgar Albert Guest. I was instantly conflicted. I’m fed up with how I feel, and wish more than anything I could “let it go,” but it’s just NOT that simple for me. At the same time, I know it IS just that simple.

The voice speaking in this poem is that of the deceased. For me, it was my mom talking for a brief moment. I don’t think it had the intended affect on me, or maybe it did? It made me feel mad, agitated, and annoyed. Also, I’m pretty sure she was scolding me.

So my first instinct took over, to bite back. Here’s my bite:

PARAGRAPH #1

“I want no rites in a gloom filled room”.

My bite: After someone dies, is it their right to tell the souls left behind how to grieve?

“why cry for a soul set free”.

My bite: I don’t believe it’s their right. And what’s that song… “I’ll cry if I want to…you would cry too, if it happened to you. Baba baba ba.”

PARAGRAPH #2

“miss me a little – but not too long”.

My bite: This statement makes me think the deceased never experienced death from the other side. Grief lasts forever. The potency of its grasp just changes.

“Not with your head bowed low”.

My bite: Brought me to tears.

“Miss me – but let me go”.

My bite: I just cannot wrap my head around this statement.

PARAGRAPH #3

My bite: I love this paragraph, but would have preferred “Master plan”. Nope, never mind, I would have preferred to substitute “life’s”. It would read like this…

“It’s all a part of life’s plan”

PARAGRAPH #4

My bite: I equally love this, nature can be so healing, it took me back to the book, “The Smell of Rain on Dust”. I feel grief’s praises are arrant on their own terms.

“Home”

My bite: Truth.

In the end, it felt like the deceased’s voice was cheapening the grieving process. It made me think of the saying, “everything happens for a reason”. Yes and no.

Ok, I’ll admit, this post is pretty judgmental of me. I know that everyone grieves on their own terms. The poet, stirred my thoughts, and my lips couldn’t help but move to the beat of my own drum. “Let me go” is something that I have not been able to do, and I’m not sure I ever will. I don’t want to let her go. Maybe that’s what brought the bubble to my boil this morning.

Hoping to return to a simmer soon…