By: Laura Lee Cochran 2023
I know Grief. He’s quite a character actually.
I first met him on a random evening. I had been laying on my bed, simply staring up at the ceiling when a quiet, but persistent, knock sounded at the front door to my apartment. My head propped up, but before I could register what was going on, Grief barged through my front door. Without a word, a reason, and definitely without permission. I quickly ran down the hallway to see him standing with his hands outstretched and tears in his eyes.
Grief became a frequent visitor to my home after that. Much like when we first met, he wasn’t prone to knocking. He would just come crashing through a window or make his way in the back door. Though, on quiet days, for some reason, he would have a faint knock. His cry and pleading could be heard through the door. When this happened I would try my best to ignore him.
Though, even when I could keep him out, he always found a way to come back another day. He would come in moments I was tired, or crying, or even in my most joyous moments. No matter the occasion, no matter what I was doing or how I was feeling, he would come. Sometimes expectantly, most times not.
Sometimes when he came, I would yell at him. I would throw pillows and lamps and anything I could at him. I begged, pleaded: “Why are you here? Why won’t you leave?” He never answered. Instead, he would grab a blanket from a bin and make himself comfortable on my couch. When he did that, I had no other option than to cry with him.
After his countless visits and his demands to listen to every detail and thing he wanted to share, I soon got to know Grief. At first glance, he seemed persistent and thoughtless. Some might even say ruthless.Though, he was actually just misunderstood.
Slowly I began to pick up on his patterns. Any time he came over, he always seemed blue. Like there was something on his mind, something he couldn’t shake. It was always interesting how he always came to me, even when I didn’t want him. He would ramble for hours on end.
Eventually it hit me that Grief just wanted to be heard in a place he felt safe. My heart began to ache for him. I realized how cruel I had been to him. I quite hated his brut personality and his aggravating way of making everything about him in the beginning, but I realized all he needed was compassion. He needed a shoulder to cry on. He needed a voice when I often silenced him.
So I started opening the door for him. I started inviting him to my friends and allowing him to be himself. I listened, I encouraged, and I loved Grief. I gave him his time. Let him learn and grow. And sooner or later, I wasn’t me getting to know Grief, but Grief getting to know me. And I realized I wasn’t just pushing Grief away, I was pushing away who I didn’t want to be.