Some Thoughts About Grief
silvi alcivar is a poet, lover of her red royal, sufjan stevens, squirrels, jellyfish, old people, wind, and her bunny salchicha. she lives in san francisco and spends her days as poet of the poetry store, a small business in which she writes and sells custom poems on demand, poetry jewelry, and poetry art. like her. follow her. hire her. read her work. http://thepoetrystore.net/
this month marks the 1 year anniversary of my mom’s death. while life has come back to relative stability, and the loss has kind of “normalized,” there’s a part of me that still feels like she died 6 weeks ago. i’m pretty sure it will always feel like this, like there’s a crack in my heart that’s healing but splits open sometimes, all of a sudden, mostly when it makes little to no sense why or how. i have begun to refer to this phenomenon as “grieftershocks,” by which i mean grief aftershocks, little ruptures along the emotional fault lines that still need to release pressure. from previous experience with deep grief, i feel sure that no matter what happens, or how much time passes, these fault lines will remain, and sometimes they’ll quake. in a strange way, though they’re sometimes painful, i’ve come to be comforted by the quakes, the release of pressure, mostly because these grieftershocks are really essential reminders that yes, my mom is gone, but my love for her remains so strong and deep and powerful it will indeed shake me for all the rest of my days. mostly, i’m humbled and awed by the capacity of our hearts to forgive and heal and grow, to be so human and so alive.