Reconnection and recollection
Recently I was sitting with my men’s group. It had been awhile since we all connected in one meeting. And by “awhile,” I mean probably more than a year and a half, and maybe even two…. yeah, THAT kind of awhile.
A lot has transpired for all of us since that time, and it was good to connect again, and feel this group of strong men sharing deeply. Hearts were open and empathy was flowing strong and, partially because we are all in "that age group," the conversation turned to death, loss and grief.
As you might imagine, that sparked a good deal of discussion, compassion, and remembering of loved ones. We have all experienced the loss of parents, siblings and friends; some, like myself, very recently.
This conversation opened up that place of grieving in me again, and grief has been up front and present for me this whole year.
My friend Richard died in July, and my youngest brother, Joel David, passed away on January 2nd this year. My oldest brother, Timothy Patrick, died two years before that in 2022. He was preceded by my mother, Loretta Ruth Agee in 2019, and my brother Matthew Thomas, in 2018.
But beyond death, we (humanity) all have, or will, experience the loss of love, relationships, dreams, the innocence of childhood, homes and communities. I walked away from what was meant to be a beautiful life with a partner in Maui just one year ago.
I know that I'm not alone or unique in experiencing death, and loss, and grief, but my grief is unique to me, and only I can deal with it.
Not a one and done
As my friend Ron reminded me that grief is not something that is just processed once and you're done; a couple of weeks, a good cry, spread some ashes, light a candle, and move on.
Grief, when we allow ourselves to actually be open to our emotional selves, to the body’s non-verbal, sensate process, can and probably will linger, just to come up, unexpectedly, in subtle and sometimes cathartic ways.
All of that grief seemed to coalesce in my body, the grief around lost relationships, lost love, lost family, lost friends, watching the losses happening around the world of people and places, human treasure, the storehouse of knowledge and history, seeming to crumbling right before our eyes. And I found myself in a state of deep grieving that stopped me in my tracks.
Luckily, I have many avenues to process, people to process with, and enough experience to be able to sit with it, and know it will pass, no matter how horrible it feels.
Death becomes you
What I did learn in that space, maybe something I'd never fully realized, is how grief, and all emotions, memories, and our experiences, are just a part of our makeup.
They are not negatives to be shoved away, or erased, or otherwise mitigated or let go. All those painful and uncomfortable sensations in my body, I learned, are those serrations in the bedrock of my being that create color, and texture.
They are the anomalies that, when extracted, we find beautiful and useful. They are the things that create the intertwining weave of the fabric of our lives; our Coat of Many Colors.
It's these places and experiences, these joyful amalgamations that give meaning and purpose to life, to my life.
The Grief of Men
There is a place for grieving
with and among men
only meant to be witnessed
by men
This grieving for loss….
lost love
lost friends
lost family
And maybe more the lost innocence
The lost hearts and
The loss of our creative souls…
our souls…
My wish
my desire
is to grieve with you my friend
to grieve with and for the men in my life
men who have put away the things of the heart
who reside in the gray
who scream into an abyss
into the chaos of separation…
as we are asked to put away our masculinity in favor of
man-hood
to be less by degrees…
to digress into agreeableness.
Who will stand to watch
to hold
to grieve …
this silent, whittling away of that which stems the tide of oblivion
that roars down the sun
that empties the sky so the moon can shine … in peace …
There is no place left here for rage
the righteous rage of a man undone
swept into the maudlin flow
It’s time to grieve
It is time to beat our chests
To raise our voices in bestial chorus
There is a place for grieving
with and among men
for men …..
by men
Grieving for loss
and the path undone
~James Humecky
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