Grief isn’t soft tears in a corner. It isn’t damp tissues, twisted into bits and pieces, stuffed into the pocket of your “funeral outfit”, bookended by flowers and a rendition of “Amazing Grace”.
Grief is raw. It is visceral and cutting. It is tears and rage and emptiness. It is the steely blade that punctures each and everyone one of us at some time in our lives. It is wave upon wave, fighting like hell to keep your head above water when all you want to do is dive down.
Pictures of “before” and “never again”.
We need a wailing wall.
Rending fabric, screaming and scratching at our skin. Lamentations wrenched from constricted throats. Freeing emotion, honoring loss. Releasing the constriction of pain. A physical representation of an emotional hole.
This is not my grief. It’s not my child that will never laugh again. Though I grieve as well. It is a grief that touches us all. We need a wailing wall.