It is said that grief lasts forever.

In a way it does.

It lives inside of you for decades.

Silenced by life, awakened by memories.

The mind has the ability to bring someone back to life and make them timeless.

Immortal.

And so it is for me and my girls in our visit to Denmark this week, his home country.

And so it is, we brought him back to life, visiting his best friends, his parents, sisters.

The streets he grew up in.

The schools he attended.

The adventures he had.

The love of him from everyone. And us.

And here we are, in the midst of his existence.

We made grief come back. For a visit.

The girls felt sad, they said now they know how much more they lost.

In a way, it was as if they were meeting their dad for the first time through the stories of others.

Their memories were so few, after all they were only four and six when he died.

They knew him with their very young minds.

And now, well now a new way to think of him.

A new way to love him.

And so it goes.

Grief is a river. It travels inside of us waiting for us. To go for a swim, down the stream. However many years go by. It doesn’t matter. The river waits for you. Click To Tweet

We are inside the river this week.

My girls and I.

Swimming for a while. The girls getting to know their dad better.

Finding the missing parts of themselves.

I have been looking for signs while here.

And there is nothing.

Not even a nudge from him.

I think he is letting his family and friends do all the talking.

He is letting us be in the river.

Healing ourselves from all the things that were unsaid. Unlived. Unseen.

Unknown.

We will leave the river behind for another long stretch of life after this week.

Cleansed. Healed. Moved.

I learned something this week.

Maybe I had always known it.

We must attend to the river no matter how many years go by.

We must make time for memories.

And not be afraid of remembering.

To look back so we can have the strength to look ahead.

Allowing for the wisdom required to live consciously, knowing all that needs to be known.

The girls silently cried on our way home from his best friend’s house, in the dark highways of Denmark.
I let them have that moment, without trying to rescue them from it.

The river is tough but we must swim in it.

Swim until it is time to go back to life and run with the wind, giggle with the world, knowing how fleeting it all is. Savoring it.

After all, death makes life more beautiful.

The river makes its banks greener.

Our reentry bolder. Wiser. Grander.

 

With many rivers deep inside of me,

Christina
PS. SEE YOU IN JUNE, find our way in and out of the river: https://lifereentry.com/the-life-reentry-weekend/