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Its been a few weeks. Many things have happened, but the most profound has been the loss of a family member in very rapid decline.

The shock of losing someone is still with me. Just yesterday I was able to write in my journal again, to feel up to a long walk in the sun, to breathe deeply. Grief is not handled well in our society, not given its due. We don't seem to want to acknowledge the emotional toll, we want everyone to buck up and move on.

I was watching a World War II era movie last night about the home front. One of the main characters, the grandson and fiance' of two other characters, dies in the war. The grandfather wears a black arm band in memory of his grandson. Another minor character loses his son and also wears a black arm band.

This was a good idea--the arm band signified that the person was still in the grieving process. Others could be signaled to respect them and to know that they perhaps were not going to "be themselves" during this time. It was helpful, I am sure, to all involved to have this sign of grief given publicly.

I have no black arm band, only dark circles under my eyes. I have no signal to give total strangers of my not being totally myself these past weeks. I have only a far away look, a tear that sneaks up on me unannounced. There are no signs alerting others that I am in a process of intense emotional energy. So, in some ways I feel I owe it to the world to hide my grief from them. Not to bother them with my tears and sadness, with my stares of disbelief, even my rants of anger at the person who didn't take as good care of himself as we, his family, thought he could have: Could he have survived this illness if he had taken precautions?

Some of the family are mad at God. I don't know what God had to do with his death. I ask questions of God, and am mad that our family seems to have had more than its share of death and grief. What is any family's share of death and grief, anyway? I can't answer that. It may not even be a question, it may only be a rant of anger and holds no real meaning. It is real nonetheless.

So, I am back with this blog. I ask your prayers--again. This time for me and my family as we enter this journey of grief and loss, and learn to live without our dear loved one. Not for just a year, but for the rest of our lives, we enter this grief. Every day the loved one is gone, we remember...