I want more time
- Gabrielle Elise Jimenez
- Jan 29, 2022
- 1 min read
Grief is a teeter-totter Grief can't seem to make up it's mind Grief has a million different colors One minute I am fine... moving through my day like I always have... and then something will trigger me... and I cry...
I find myself curled up in a ball on my couch I feel very child-like and sometimes a little alone Even though I know I am not
I am reminded AGAIN How much time I wasted I so badly want a do-over I want more time I want more time I want more time
And then there I go again... cleaning my house watching tv, making something good to eat I even laugh and sometimes I smile I might take a call from a friend... I might choose not to
I know I am not alone I know others have been through this This isn't the first time It won't be the last
As I grieve the loss of someone I love I remind myself to smile I go back into my heart and pull out a memory Savoring all of its beautiful parts And then I tuck it away... safe... for later As I know I will need to go back there again Often
I want more time I want more time I want more time
I am not alone I am sad... but I am not alone And that comforts me
Grief is chaotic, and crazy, sometimes moody, and it is also... the reaction we feel when we lose someone we love
Maybe I like grief... just a little... Because it reminds me that I was gifted love And I love... love A lot
xo Gabby
This is a beautiful description of grief, Gabby. You nailed it and seem to have seen into my heart and those of all of us who have lost a very dear one. I remember the fresh, very difficult days and months after my sweet sister died - tears definitely outnumbered smiles for the longest time and sometimes I feared I'd never stop crying! Somehow I did and, with a few exceptions, I smiles and laugh far more now! "I feel alone" is the other comment that really resonated with me. Even after 30 years, MY loneliness is sometimes a physical feeling and can be very painful. I, too, 'know' I'm not alone, but boy, I really have to struggle wit…
So beautiful and real, Gabby. Thank you for sharing your pain.