Friday, November 28, 2008

The Well

This grief, there's so much of it.

On a daily basis, it's not overwhelming. I can carry it in pieces. I can tackle the day's weight.

But there's so much of it. It's a deep dark well. I drink some every day, but there's so much. And I have a terrible feeling that I don't even know how deep the well is, how very much there is.

Some days, it helps to drink, like a bitter tasting medicine. I know that I need to get through it. I can't continue to avoid it.

But there's so much. I can't ever finish. Surely there is enough grief there that it will still be there, in that deep dark well, until the day I die.


Anonymous said...

When Barbaro (the race horse) was injured his owner said: "Grief is the price we pay for love." I think it applies to humans as well.

You take care, RRNC

rlbates said...

Beautifully sad, this post on grief. But hopefully, the same can be said for the well of happiness.

I wish you peace.

kcd said...

i'm so sorry. i am sending every loving intention my heart can muster to you right now, for your healing, for the grief to be bearable, for henry and your other kids. right now all this love is coming to you.

kcd, rdms
in california

Eric, AKA The Pragmatic Caregiver said...

I don't try to empty the well. I know the well is there, I believe it to be effectively bottomless, and honestly, my thirst was quenched a while back.

My strategy is to choke down just enough to keep the well millimeters from overflowing, and pray for a long hard freeze. I don't have to empty it; I just have to keep the contents from inundating my space and those around me.


JeanMac said...

I wish I could say something profound but think Eric said it best. Always in our thoughts and prayers.

TBTAM said...

I can only imagine what you are feeeling. All I can say is that I am so sorry yo8u ahve to go through this.y thoughts are with you. If there is anything I can do, let me know.

net said...

So sorry, Doc! Praying for you and your family.

Bianca Castafiore said...


Those who will not slip beneath
the still surface on the well of grief

turning down to its black water
to the place that we can not breathe

will never know
the source from which we drink
the secret water cold and clear

nor find in the darkness
the small gold coins
thrown by those who wished for something else

~ David Whyte ~
Where Many Rivers Meet, 1990

Anonymous said...

If you haven't read it, there's a great blog out there you might want to check out...sorry, don't know how to make links : (

I have never commented but have been a reader since long before Henry was ill. I am wishing you and your family such peace and love right now.

pisceshanna said...

Still sending you thoughts of peace and hugs from Colorado. Big hugs.

...tom... said...


"There is no grief like the grief that does not speak." —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I am so glad that you have this space to speak of your grief. I would like to think that each of us must carry but a small portion of it with you, for you; perhaps insensible to you ...but oh so weighty for us.


Dragonfly said...

There is nothing I can say of a profound nature, just that I who have never met you and probably never will am praying for you and yours.

THAT GIRL said...

I'm sorry that your heart hurts so badly.