The Director Of My Orchestra

[scarrymama]

Grief is an ever changing territory. Sometimes the terrain is rough and unsteady, hair-pin turns and sheer cliffs on seemingly every side.  Other times the terrain is smooth and steady, you can almost put it on auto pilot and coast.  There are days when my grief is small enough to bundle up and put into my purse, and other days where my grief is so big that all of the duffel bags, suitcases and backpacks in my house, couldn't hold the load that is my grief. She is sneaky, my grief.  One moment she is sitting still beside me on the couch like a good little girl, and the next moment she has gained 300 pounds and pinned me to the floor,  knee in my gut, fingers wrapped around my throat leaving me gasping for air. How does she do this? Why can't she stay small and manageable? How is it that she can grow and shrink, and do so of her own volition?

 

My girl, Grief, has a friend that she likes to bring around with her. Her name is Pain. She's a real bitch this one,  sneaky  as well.  Sometimes she's just this dull little annoyance, ever present and dully throbbing....but manageable.  But Pain doesn't like to be dull, playing sharp is her game.  It always seems that just when I've filed  the razor sharp edges off my girl, Pain,  some knife-sharpening fairy comes in while I'm not looking and gives her a free sharpening . Thanx a lot fairy.

 

So what do I do with my girls Grief and Pain? I really wish  I could  tell them to get the hell out and never come back.  I just don't think that's possible. They're a part of me now, even though I wish they weren't. I understand that Grief and Pain are ever changing, their ebb and flow a part of the orchestra of my life. Some days they are the Director and I am the musician. On those days the music is a haunting and dark melody, the chords striking a cold thud on your insides, making you sick with it. I hate it when they direct.  It's a constant struggle between us girls, always fighting for the directors wand...but I'm sick of fighting. This is MY orchestra, and I want to DIRECT! So listen here Ms. Fatty Grief.....GO ON A DIET. I realize that you're here to stay that's just the way of it. But if you're going to play in my orchestra, you'll have to be able to fit on the chair provided. And that bitch, Pain, that you always bring around with you? Well you tell her this. NO SHARP INSTRUMENTS ALLOWED. I filed her razor sharp edges down to a dull edge. It's still an edge, it still hurts. But it cannot kill. My life's orchestra is comprised of many instruments,  each one singing a different story but all creating the same music. There are many stories in a musical piece. Stories of tragedy, but also of triumph. Stories of pain, but also of healing. It takes many components to create a beautiful piece, and as different as they all are, it is their difference that blend together to create the song. I will accept the harmony  you play in my orchestra, but let's get one thing clear. I'M THE DIRECTOR.

Tags: grief, loss, pain, suffering, familiar, hope, joy, death, depression, mom, laugh, live, heal

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[Barbwirenrozes]

Nov. 6, 2009 at 12:29 PM

OMG so well put.. I am dealing with similar issues right now.. EXACTLY.. with the death of my grandparents ( recent ) and physical pain. I love the way you put things into words (((((((((((xoxoxoxoxoxoxox)))

Me

[supamomfor3]

Nov. 6, 2009 at 2:21 PM

I love this :)

[SalBac]

Nov. 6, 2009 at 4:56 PM

You ARE the director, Ang, and don't you let anyone or anything wrestle that wand away from you. I love that you're willing to accept their harmony, as unharmonious as it may be. You rock!