Heart Happy (cathy_edgett) wrote,
Heart Happy

Linda Pastan -

I certainly wouldn't compare the loss of a person to the loss of the blog, but I did find myself moving through the five stages of grief:  denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  It is a good thing to practice letting go.  This is a lovely poem on grieving, and it reminds us how circular grief can be.

    "The Five Stages of Grief"

                by Linda Pastan

    The night I lost you
    someone pointed me towards
    the Five Stages of Grief.
    Go that way, they said,
    it's easy, like learning to climb
    stairs after the amputation.
    And so I climbed.
    Denial was first.
    I sat down at breakfast
    carefully setting the table
    for two. I passed you the toast--
    you sat there. I passed
    you the paper--you hid
    behind it.
    Anger seemed more familiar.
    I burned the toast, snatched
    the paper and read the headlines myself.
    But they mentioned your departure,
    and so I moved on to
    Bargaining. What could I exchange
    for you? The silence
    after storms? My typing fingers?
    Before I could decide, Depression
    came puffing up, a poor relation
    its suitcase tied together
    with string. In the suitcase
    were bandages for the eyes
    and bottles of sleep. I slid
    all the way down the stairs
    feeling nothing.
    And all the time Hope
    flashed on and off
    in defective neon.
    Hope was a signpost pointing
    straight in the air.
    Hope was my uncle's middle name,
    he died of it.
    After a year I am still climbing,
    though my feet slip
    on your stone face.
    The treeline
    has long since disappeared;
    green is a color
    I have forgotten.
    But now I see what I am climbing
    towards: Acceptance
    written in capital letters,
    a special headline:
    its name in lights.
    I struggle on,
    waving and shouting.
    Below, my whole life spreads its surf,
    all the landscapes I've ever known
    or dreamed of. Below
    a fish jumps: the pulse
    in your neck.
    Acceptance. I finally
    reach it.
    But something is wrong.
    Grief is a circular staircase.
    I have lost you.

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