Love and her little sibling, Grief, leave deep impression on the soul. The deeper the former, the more profound the latter. In the first months, tear-streaked cheeks and haphazard hairstyles are the tell-tale signs, but as time goes on grief begins to sink in like a stone in a pond- the ripples on the surface eventually smooth while under the water the motion continues. Just as Love often gradually permeates our very souls, Grief follows those footprints. Soon those traitorous eyes that leaked at every opportunity are replaced by dry, but hauntingly empty eyes. Tangled hair neglected in grief is tamed and changed into a new style- one that doesn't remind you of Before. Blubbering and spilling it all out soon dries up until the words are cautiously meted out while swallowing the rest. As if we really told others that beyond a predetermined amount of time that we still ache and bleed and cry that it would somehow make it worse.The further the grief sinks in- into our stomach, our bones, and habits, the more the other siblings like Anger and Guilt pay visits. Angry at ourselves for moving on too quickly or slowly, guilty that we can move on at all. Desperately holding on to the grief as the last shred of evidence that we loved at all. Like water carving a canyon, the depth of the change is not evident until the water finally runs it's course. Sometimes it has swept you away until you can finally move on your own while other times it has rocked you into stillness. Either way, when it's gone the final product is fundamentally changed, shaped, carved, and molded into something new. And then the process repeats. Is it worth it? This loss and journey towards transformation? Do the joys of love outweigh the shattering of grief? When love and grief have reshaped our very being, we are forced to relearn the world through those empty eyes and freshly cobbled hearts.
