Word scavenging

Still here.

Still trying, without much success, to write about this moment in time.

Still seeking, six days in, a way to link what is happening to some words of my own.

It is the darkest, loneliest time and yet, an experience I don’t want to get lost in the haze. I want to remember every moment.

So for now, I lean on those more eloquent, to help be my voice, and help me remember.

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing.

At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.”

~ C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed