Poetic Grief, Revisited

My Great-Aunt Ginger died yesterday. It is my family’s time to mourn now, and so once more I turn to another writer’s words to express thoughts which refuse to be corralled by my own mind.

“It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.” -Lemony Snicket, ‘Horseradish:Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid’.

3 thoughts on “Poetic Grief, Revisited

  1. I’m sorry to hear about your aunt. What an incredible name, Ginger. Like Gilligans Island. You should write through it. Just stream of conciousness.

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  2. Thank you. My Grandfather’s sisters all had interesting names, including one named Avalon! I usually do write through bad times but hadn’t thought of stream of consciousness. That’s an excellent idea.

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  3. Pingback: Grief | eitheory.com

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