I was out for lunch and looked out the window today and saw the most incredible cherry blossoms. They always seem too soon, exploding out of chilly brown branches, outlined against the bluest of early spring skies.
This to me is a little of what grief can feel like, especially the early daysmonthsyears – you may be walking along through the fog, feeling grey, colourless, a little blind to life going on around you (how can it even?), caring about not a whole lot (how can you even?) except how you are going to make it through the next hour, the next endless minutes until you can crawl back under your sheets, then bam, literally – you are hit with a flash of extraordinary beauty, something in what was once just ordinary life, a minute detail, the littlest thing suddenly appears in so much stunning clarity that you can only sit, stare and be humbled.
How did you not notice this before?
It is as though the immensity of your pain is mirrored in the immense beauty of the universe. It can be hard to contain, impossible really, the two extremes colliding in your heart, overflowing through tears, leaving you spinning, leaving you cracked wide open, forever changed.