Grief -- a narrative

I was a road alone, lost, walking in endless circles, when an old woman came to me and took my hand. She did not speak a word, but her eyes asked me to follow, and hesitantly, wearily, I did. She started leading me away from the light, away from the brokendown path that held me, towards a shadowland in the distance I had never dared approach. As we drew nearer and nearer to it, I pulled away from her grasp, afraid of the darkness, but her gentle grip stayed me, and her soft eyes persuaded me that I must trust her and continue to walk with her -- she knew the way, she could see through the darkness.

~

So we journeyed together, me following like a child as the path became darker and darker still. I started to stumble over boulders and snares hidden from view, all control taken away from me as my eyes finally failed to find any light at all. An unbearable blackness consumed me, but the old lady led me determinedly forward, not allowing me to give in to my fear or be overcome by the ache of my memories, memories that felt so much easier and safer.

~

When I stumbled and wept, she dried my tears, cleaned my wounds, and led me forward still. When I was angry, she let me rest for a while, and I would scream and cry sometimes. But she stroked my hair with her swollen, aged fingers, holding me close like a baby in her cold but comforting arms until I was calm again. She invited a deep and indescribable kind of peace when I was unable to.

~

Day after day she did not speak, she did not explain where she was leading me, but there was reassurance in her gentleness, a safety in her leading I could believe in. Soon I started to feel hope like an infant being birthed in my heart and I asked her if the place she was taking me was going to be beautiful, feeling deep within me as if I already had the answer. She paused for a moment then sweetly took both of my hands in her own, placed them over her soft, age-worn cheeks and let me feel her brilliant smile. My soul leaped and her unspoken answer resonated as loud as a thunderbolt in my ears. I felt a light, a heat, a warmth shining on me, something that could not be seen, only felt, melting the ice in my heart. A river was forming in my very being.

~

I knew then that the darkness would persists for a season, but a new kind of light was illuminating my path; that the pain and the fear would only lend themselves to significance and beauty if I refused to give up, if I trusted this journey. I determined then that I would continue to walk, continue to trust the old woman, my compass, leading me to a promised land of light and new life.

~

But before I journeyed further I had one more question to ask, one I had not thought of all this time, "what is your name?". She moved her lips to my ear and intimately steadied my face with her hand, "Grief", she said, "my name is Grief". I kissed her on the cheek and held on tight to her hand, this time deliberately, for she was no longer a stranger but a friend and I was no longer a frightened child but a woman at the ready, and we walked on in peaceful silence together.