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Grief is a Sneaky Bitch: An Uncensored Guide to Navigating Loss

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Lisa Keefauver

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“Ah, you don’t comprehend, friend John. Do not think that I am not sad, though I laugh. See, I have cried even when the laugh did choke me. But no more think that I am all sorry when I cry, for the laugh he come just the same. Keep it always with you that laughter who knock at your door and say, ‘May I come in?’ is not the true laughter. No! he is a king, and he come when and how he like. He ask no person; he choose no time of suitability. He say, ‘I am here.’ Behold, in example I grieve my heart out for that so sweet young girl; I give my blood for her, though I am old and worn; I give my time, my skill, my sleep; I let my other sufferers want that so she may have all. And yet I can laugh at her very grave—laugh when the clay from the spade of the sexton drop upon her coffin and say ‘Thud! thud!’ to my heart, till it send back the blood from my cheek. My heart bleed for that poor boy—that dear boy, so of the age of mine own boy had I been so blessed that he live, and with his hair and eyes the same. There, you know now why I love him so. And yet when he say things that touch my husband-heart to the quick, and make my father-heart yearn to him as to no other man—not even to you, friend John, for we are more level in experiences than father and son—yet even at such moment King Laugh he come to me and shout and bellow in my ear, ‘Here I am! here I am!’ till the blood come dance back and bring some of the sunshine that he carry with him to my cheek. Oh, friend John, it is a strange world, a sad world, a world full of miseries, and woes, and troubles; and yet when King Laugh come he make them all dance to the tune he play. Bleeding hearts, and dry bones of the churchyard, and tears that burn as they fall—all dance together to the music that he make with that smileless mouth of him. And believe me, friend John, that he is good to come, and kind. Ah, we men and women are like ropes drawn tight with strain that pull us different ways. Then tears come; and, like the rain on the ropes, they brace us up, until perhaps the strain become too great, and we break. But King Laugh he come like the sunshine, and he ease off the strain again; and we bear to go on with our labour, what it may be.”

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Author:Bram Stoker
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“I saw new Worlds beneath the Water ly, New Peeple; yea, another Sky And Sun, which seen by Day Might things more clear display. Just such another Of late my Brother Did in his Travel see, & saw by Night, A much more strange & wondrous Sight: Nor could the World exhibit such another, So Great a Sight, but in a Brother. Adventure strange! No such in Story we New or old, tru or feigned, see. On Earth he seem'd to mov Yet Heven went abov; Up in the Skies His Body flies In open, visible, yet Magick, sort: As he along the Way did sport, Over the Flood he takes his nimble Cours Without the help of feigned Horse. As he went tripping o'r the King's high-way, A little pearly River lay O'r which, without a Wing Or Oar, he dar'd to swim, Swim throu the Air On Body fair; He would not use nor trust Icarian Wings Lest they should prov deceitful things; For had he faln, it had been wondrous high, Not from, but from abov, the Sky: He might hav dropt throu that thin Element Into a fathomless Descent; Unto the nether Sky That did beneath him ly, And there might tell What Wonders dwell On Earth abov. Yet doth he briskly run, And bold the Danger overcom; Who, as he leapt, with Joy related soon How happy he o'r-leapt the Moon.”

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Book:Traherne's Poems of Felicity
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