Think of the deepest and most brutal wound you’ve encountered and the harsh scar you’ve been left with, that is grief.
At first when death arrives for someone you love you’re numb. You can’t feel a thing. You look at the wound, you see it, but it confuses you. You don’t know what to do with it or how deep and mighty it is. It’s there, but so many things cover it. Like a wound’s initial bandages at first you are surrounded by people, by comfort, and by endless responsibility. You avoid it. You numb it. You try not to look at it, as if not looking will make it disappear.
Slowly the numbing sense goes away and you’re left with this raw and bleeding ache. No longer able to be denied and ignored, your wound is there, open and exposed. You do your best with the debilitating ache of mandatory healing and forced acceptance.
The wound stays harsh and painful for what feels like forever. It heals but slowly. Very very slowly. In stages. In phases. In time.
As it heals it hurts less but it still hurts. Truth is, it always will. It will simply hurt differently.
It will always be sensitive, for you have been cut open and forever changed. You will have the battle wound to prove your journey, even though it’s tucked away where others can’t see. They’ll forget it’s there. You never will.
Eventually, many miles and lifetimes down the road, it transforms from a wound to a scar. It settles and loses its initial painful intensity but it doesn’t disappear. It can’t, and you wouldn’t want it to. It’s proof of love’s suffering and ache. It’s proof you can heal. It’s proof you can overcome.
Ask me what grief is like and I’ll tell you it’s the transformation of your deepest cuts and injuries melting away to scars. Healed only with time, love, acceptance and grace. Never leaving completely, simply changing to a smaller and more delicate display.
Grief is the wound that heals to a scar that permanently decorates your body, your soul, and your future.
Beautiful analogy.