By Sheri Roaf – From Sunshines, Angels, and Rainbows
I fear that I have fallen so far down the rabbit hole (though I’m not entirely sure which one, because this one is so very complicated), that I’m not sure where I’m at anymore. Every month in 2020 has been one tragedy following the next. And I’m tired. And I’m unsure of who I am and what I’m meant to do with this life. It’s all just so overwhelming.
I miss my Mom. I miss my son. And even though he could be an awful pain in the ass, I miss my dad. There is so much complicated shit going on that sometimes I forget that grief. It blocks it out. Just for a moment because it’s so overwhelming. But then it comes back and the hurt and the love and the pain are all still there.
It hides there for a bit under the surface. I find it under the sorrow of watching our world crumbling, witnessing the awful divide of our country. I feel it in the anger of the injustice of what continues to happen unchecked by those in power. I glimpse it in the helplessness I feel at this very moment. What can I do to help?
And it’s a lot to carry with me through the day. My heart feels very heavy and my soul, weary. And my grief feels ever-present. I miss my people. There are too many gone from this life.
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