Grief isn’t just about losing someone. But what happens when the loss is something deeper? This letter explores a different kind of mourning—one marked by love and presence, not just by sorrow
Jay, I also have questioned how my grief for my mom has not looked or felt as “intense” as it was for my sister.. it’s been much quieter, subtler—even though I was her emotional companion for a good part of my life (often at the expense of my own needs, before I even had a sense of self). I get a lot of what you say here, not judging the uniqueness of the relationship I had with her, nor the way I’m grieving the loss of her.
Thank you for sharing, Natalie. It really resonates with me that your grief has been quieter and subtler, especially given the deep emotional connection you had with your mom. I also grappled with understanding how my grief for my mother didn’t fit any expected intensity—it was layered, different, and shaped by the complexities of our relationship. The fact that you were her emotional companion, even at the expense of your own sense of self, speaks to that unique bond. It’s powerful not to judge, just to accept it for what it was.
Thank you for sharing *The Well of Grief*. It captures the courage it takes to confront those depths rather than skimming the surface. Your reference to David Whyte feels like a gentle acknowledgment of the complexity of these emotions, and I appreciate that deeply.
Jay, I also have questioned how my grief for my mom has not looked or felt as “intense” as it was for my sister.. it’s been much quieter, subtler—even though I was her emotional companion for a good part of my life (often at the expense of my own needs, before I even had a sense of self). I get a lot of what you say here, not judging the uniqueness of the relationship I had with her, nor the way I’m grieving the loss of her.
Thank you for sharing, Natalie. It really resonates with me that your grief has been quieter and subtler, especially given the deep emotional connection you had with your mom. I also grappled with understanding how my grief for my mother didn’t fit any expected intensity—it was layered, different, and shaped by the complexities of our relationship. The fact that you were her emotional companion, even at the expense of your own sense of self, speaks to that unique bond. It’s powerful not to judge, just to accept it for what it was.
Yes. It must be felt deeply. I'd like to share this poem with you by David Whyte whom I relate to.
The well of grief
Those who will not slip beneath
the still surface on the well of grief,
turning down through its black water
to the place we cannot breathe,
will never know the source from which we drink,
the secret water, cold and clear,
nor find in the darkness glimmering,
the small round coins,
thrown by those who wished for something else.
Thank you for sharing *The Well of Grief*. It captures the courage it takes to confront those depths rather than skimming the surface. Your reference to David Whyte feels like a gentle acknowledgment of the complexity of these emotions, and I appreciate that deeply.