a rainy month (without an advocate)

Grief is not something in which I believe many can claim expertise. However, grief has been a primary player in my adolescent, post-adolescent and young adult life. I know the inner workings of grief in my heart. I know the process for myself, I know my mourning is in constant metamorphosis. My grief is lonely, personal, tired.

When I grieve, I find many words vacant and plastic. I often find the actions of others careless, hurtful.

I find myself bitter and hunkered into a posture of fear. But mainly, I find myself craving an advocate. Someone who doesn't say the dread four word phrase, "If you need anything..." But fills needs unspoken. Gives a ride, makes some tea, gives a few minutes, sends flowers frivolously, lends a hand. Stops and cares.

No call necessary. No "letting know" needed.

Just compassion in action.

An advocate for my heart.

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