“My Two Friends: Grief and Gratitude
This morning I went to the dentist to have a cavity filled. It’s been over ten years since I have been to the dentist but I was super grateful for the appointment because my tooth has been hurting me. However, even though I came home and took a nap, I still woke up in a lot of pain and numbness. I don’t guess I won’t be biking into town today. Sigh. I do so enjoy my bike rides. Maybe I can do some biking tomorrow…
This last week was hard on my heart. My two beloved horses, Princeton and Shiloh’s anniversaries of their passing away were February 24th and February 27th. It’s been three years since Princeton left us and two years for Shiloh.
Grief is not something we heal through. It’s something we feel through. It doesn’t go away. It resides within us, sometimes coming out at unexpected moments. I can’t speak for other's experiences, but for me, it is a palpable pain in my heart - as if something has been torn from me. Even though it’s been years since my horses have died, it still hurts just as bad. No, I do not cry all the time but the pain of it is still there, tucked away.
I do not believe that time heals all. Time helps us to move on and find new things to fill our lives with, but it does not heal us. Grief is not something to be healed from. Grief is an integral tool that our body uses to help us know what is important to us. Sometimes we grieve something of great value and connection that we lost; sometimes we grieve the value and connection that we never got. Either way, it’s our body’s way of reminding us what matters to us.
I won’t lie; I hate the feeling of grief. I do not enjoy sobbing at my horse’s graves as the pain and memories fill my body. It hurts. It feels like my gut is getting wrenched out. It feels all-encompassing. It sucks.
This week though, as the tears fell down my face in waves, I also felt a strange sense of gratitude. I got to have ten years with my Princeton boy, and twenty-five with my best friend Shiloh. Of course, we had our ups and downs, but those horses brought me immense joy. I learned a great deal from them and the love that they gave me is something that will always be with me.
Of course, I miss them so much.
Of course, it feels like an unbearable loss.
But that’s the cost of having something so special.
It is temporary.
We cannot hold onto it forever.
We do not get to choose when is the right time to say goodbye.
Everything is temporary - and while we are sometimes extremely grateful for that fact, in areas like dentist visits and such 🥴, some things we secretly hope will last forever.
Sometimes, okay, most times, our heads and our hearts aren’t on the same page. Shiloh was 34 years old and I knew she had lived a long life and could die at any time. However, my heart desperately wanted to have her forever and had slowly started to convince me that maybe she would be some miracle horse that lived till 100. But alas, one day reality came to visit and grief came along to stay.
This is the price of love. It will not be owned. You cannot keep it safely inside a box. Love is wild - and wild is not safe. Yes, it is dangerous to let your heart love something so much that you risk losing it later on and spending the rest of your life living with grief. It’s all a gamble.
For me, I will continue taking that risk - because even though grief hurts so bad… love feels so good. The moments I experienced with those beautiful horses are forever etched within my soul.
Every day I miss Princeton and Shiloh - and every day I am grateful for the life we had together. It’s a strange thing to hold both grief and gratitude at the same time. Life is mysterious, unpredictable, and sometimes downright confusing, but I am learning that it isn’t my job to “figure things out.” I used to put my energy there but the only place it got me was frustration. These days I spend less time worrying about solving the puzzle and more time allowing and enjoying what I have - while I still have it.
My mouth is slowly gaining its feeling back. I find it kinda funny that sometimes I don’t want to have feelings but then today I am sitting at my kitchen table wishing so badly to get feeling back into my face. My body must be like, “Make up your damn mind!” 😄
That’s all for today, folks. If this blog finds you working through some of your own grief, please know that you are not alone. Our experiences may be different but pain is pain - and it all hurts.
I got ya.
I love ya.
Hang in there.
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