letting the sorrow have its say

A dear friend of mine came up with the phrase that is today's post title. All the e-mails she has sent to me since Anna Clementine died have been pure gold. She isn't a chatty person, but when the occasion calls for it, she says the most extraordinary, beautiful things.

So lately I have been "letting the sorrow have its say." It's a phrase of gentle acceptance. But, oh, it's intense. The joy and the pain, the gratitude and the sadness- they keep a sort of tension going that gives me the energy to get up in the morning and be fully present to my family. Everything around here is peaceful, if a little tentative.

I don't feel angry. If you know me well, this might surprise you. I used to be set on simmer most of the time. During the pregnancy, I experienced healing and gained a new perspective, and now instead of feeling angry, I get to feel sad. If you don't see the improvement there, I suspect you have never been chronically angry. Anger makes a person restless, distracted, and kind of stupid. Sadness I can just sit with. It makes me feel human and normal and I like that. 

Mostly I feel grateful for the time we had with Anna. She brought joy to our whole family. So I'll let the sadness flow over us, and when it has exhausted itself what will remain is Anna alive somehow in the hearts of the living.