They asked

A poem + backstory on grief

Hello, my brilliant reader-friend. Is it okay if I call you friend? In these weird internet days, I realize I have many people I consider friends but we haven’t actually met in real life. Yet, we share life together. We support each other. We feel less alone. We cheer each other on. I guess love can look a million different ways. I’m grateful.

We’re going to mix things up today. With the ADHD reflections and all the invitations to explore our inner world, even I honor it can be a lot. I find it all fascinating which is why I love to write about it. But sometimes our nervous systems need a deep breath. We can experience truth in different forms.

Maybe that’s why I love writing poetry. Secret confession: I feel awkward calling it poetry, because it never rhymes or sounds like other poetry I read. For some reason, I’ve never cared about breaking any poetry “rules.” I write poetry when I’m inside my emotions and I always feel better. So it must be okay.

Plus, my body makes most of my decisions now (after years of letting my chaotic mind have her turn) and my body glimmers with happiness when I write poetry, so that’s all the validation and approval I need to continue down this path.

Today, I share with you a poem entitled, “they asked,” and a little back story.

what was he like?

that invitation is healing
the remembering is healing
speaking your name is healing
thank you to anyone who asks

what was he like?

I wrote this poem at the end of August after my sister shared that someone asked her, “What was Jeremy like?” Our eyes filled with tears as we reflected on how deeply that question lands for those grieving beloveds they’ve lost. Polite American-grief-denying culture tells us to never bring up topics that might make someone uncomfortable. I call BS. As our family often says to each other, “It’s cute they think we’re not thinking about him all the time.”

For those of you grieving a loved one or other losses in your life, what do you think? Do you appreciate people asking about it? Or do you wish they’d leave you alone to grieve in private?

One beautiful way forward is to ask the grieving friend what they would find helpful in this season. This gives them agency in a time that feels powerless. This shows them you’re not going to fade in discomfort from their heavy reality. Also know — they may not know. And that’s okay too. I’m so grateful for the friends who send me a random heart emoji and say, “Thinking of Jeremy today.” Oh, it means the world! Simple and easy.

Jeremy would have been 34 this Monday. It’s hard to think he won’t age with us. But I’m grateful he got to enjoy 33 years. He was such a great brother. Still is.

---

Please consider sharing this post!

Sharing this post helps other humans gain courage to explore their inner world. It supports my family so I can do this work that lights me up. If you found something meaningful here, please spread the word. Thanks a million.

Join The Thread community

If you’re new here, I’d love for you to stick around. Click that subscribe button, and I’ll send a story and invitation your way most Wednesdays or Thursdays.