From my grief sketchbook & journal:
Grief Should be Bottled
When you have those moments of entitlement, when you feel superior, when your compassion for others wanes, when you have no empathy, when you put your own selfish needs above your loved ones’ needs, when you take all you have for granted, you take a whiff from the bottle. And it brings you to your knees.
Suddenly an unimaginable heartache hits you. Then an overwhelming fear that your world has forever changed. The bright future that you had so vividly imagined turns dark and bleak. The hopeless feeling that all the things that you held so dear have been ripped from your arms never to be embraced again. The painful guilt of missed opportunities to share your love or just simply say “I love you” sets in. And the tears flow uncontrollably.
Slowly the you regain your composure as the effects wear off. You rise up from your knees with a renewed gratitude for life. And gratefulness that it was only temporary and you thankfully will not have to carry those horrid feelings with you for the rest of your life, unlike me.
“After sitting at countless deathbeds, I can tell you, no one pines for their houses or cars at the end of life. What is meaningful is the people whom they have loved.” – David Kessler, from the book Finding Meaning, The Sixth Stage of Grief