The premise is usually that it’s a poem or song from the point of view of the one who died. The authors of these pieces always seem to think our loved ones don’t want us to hurt or to be sad or to carry the weight of grief through our lifetime.
Well, that’s bullshit.
If I die today, this is what I want for the people that love me:
Feel every bit of it as fully and wholeheartedly as you can.
Let it wash through you.
Let the grief and the absence take you under.
Not because I’m cruel or heartless or mean. Not because I wish for my loved ones to hurt or suffer.
I want you do cry and weep and mourn and wail because I don’t want you to suffer.
Grief cannot be denied.
Denying grief will only prolong the pain and suffering and aching emptiness when someone we love dies.
Don’t turn from your grief. Embrace it. Drink it down in gulps to cleanse and fill that empty space left by my passing.
Because if you do, then and only then, will the pain and emptiness of my death ease and release it’s grip. Only then will the darkness of grief be broken by the return of light and breath. Only then can you move forward, wholeheartedly and free.
I have existed in the suffering of grief denied, of tears held back and wailing silence. It steals life and freedom and joy. Grief denied is life denied.
I want you to grieve and mourn and swim in the sorrow. Bathe in it until it eases and ebbs away.
Because what I want for you is life and freedom and joy.