Grief takes away the appetite …
for me it takes away my need to speak.
Over the past month I’ve had one friend after another loose someone to death, another learned they are terminal ill, another has years of recovery…one type of loss after another. I turn to the news and bombs are going off at the finish line of the Boston marathon. The impact? I’m left without words. Why? Because what I wanted to talk about doesn’t seem as crucial to say at this moment. What feels appropriate is silence. Reverence. Respect for those who’ve suffered (are suffering). I know many need to speak out, speak about, verbally process. That is how I normally live but when tragedy strikes silences seems right. Silence says no words can adequately speak to what happened…is happening.
I need pause to breath in the brokenness. In a way it’s like music. To appreciate the notes one must have pauses. Tragedy happens. We commentate. Facebook. News. Blogs. Tweet. For some that is what they need. I need a pause. My talking enables me to contain or compartmentalize what occurred. But sometimes what’s required is simply feel the full impact of broken humanity. It puts much into perspective. For me? I find what I thought was so important to talk about isn’t all that important for now. So I pause. I’m silence. I am reverent.
Bombs in Boston. A sister dead. A husband hospitalized. A son fighting to live. For some grief causes a loss of appetite, for me … a loss of words.