Grieving

MY FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH GRIEF came early, vicariously. I was six, on the verge of first grade, in August, and my step grandfather died. My grandmother's grief ws so tangible that I felt it vicariously, with empathy six years old. Mymother, a realist, took me to the mortuary for the viewing. when my grandmother approacehd the open casket and wailed: "Oh papa, come back to me", I knew something was wrong, that no, he would not ever be "coming back" to her. I knew what death was, probably from watching westerns on TV starting when I was a toddler, watching gun slingers dropping like flies. Maybe I knew as much about death then as I would ever know or need to know, as much as I know now..Aging is an accumulation of sorrows, of the memory of grieving, again and again. Our grandparest die, then our parents, then our friends, pets, and families, and then..us. We accumulate grieving memories. So, we get used to it, and we harden, or, as I prefer to think, we grow, and grow stronger. About five years ago two of my beloved cats died in successive years, one from liver failure, one from kidney failure, and my grieving was profound, including hysterical sobbing on the telephone to poor, unprepared people. Two days ago my beloved cat, whom I raised from a kitten, who spent his life in my lap and in bed with me at night, died from a combinmation of illnesses, including heart failure. So now its back to grieving for me, forward into yet another time of grief. What amazes me are two things: how incredibly profound, comprehensive, all encompassing this grief is, how horrible it is, and..how I am responding to it. As I struggle through my latest time of grief I reflect that this time is no better than the others, perhaps even worse, but...I am responding to it with greater courage and wisdom. If nothing else, I have grown.