Good Grief
It is Springtime and I am doing my annual Spring cleaning– maniacally giving away old and unused clothes and items that no longer serve or never did. Some things I remember as I go through the linen chest– others are totally forgotten as to origin and use. And then it hits. In the corner of the chest is a neatly folded piece of green check cotton cloth. I immediately know its source. It is the cloth my Mother used to make curtains for her kitchen. Mom was always making curtains. When my husband and I were married she made curtains for our first apartment. Seeing this green check cloth brings me back to a hard period in my life when seeing my Mother was my only joy… we are sitting at the table in her kitchen having tea and laughing. It is a happy meeting… So many years ago.
And now with the sun shining and the birds singing and fresh air wafting in through the windows I am struck with a clutching stomach of grief. Tears that feel they could go on forever when I was in my fifties now are gone some 20 years later. Loss has hit again since then… a few times and those times are more sore. I let the sun beat down on me to soothe the memory.
Grief is not just a human phenomenon. Elephants will stand over the dead body of one of their herd, in some way showing respect for the departed spirit. And I think of examples close to home. The doe we saw one day going over to the dead body of a fawn on the side of the road. Or the baby rabbit we saw crossing into the middle of the road where a large mass of flesh with fur lay. And even closer to home– my husband and I adopted my Mother’s dog once Mom got too sick to care for her. Ko-ko had stayed with us many times in our house and loved being there. We never took her to see Mom again because the parting was too hard on both of them. We did take her toys though, from Mom’s house one night, and put them in our bedroom, among them a corroded rubber Santa. We were sitting at dinner that night and Ko-ko went into the bedroom. We heard a blood-curdling yelp and then whimpering. We went in and found Ko-ko with her old Santa in her mouth. The Santa was her version of my green check curtain. A stabbing wound and tears.
Clearly animals feel grief. Some die of grief just like humans. Grief binds us together, human and animal, and perhaps provides the special appeal of the new life in Spring. Yet when Spring inspires happy faces and a general feeling of well-being, and flowers are blooming everywhere, the contrast can be cruel. As T.S. Eliot so eloquently put it: “April is the cruelest month.” But once it is May the new life has settled in and we can go out in the yard and bake in the sun– the universal giver of life. And then with June… “And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days…” (James Russell Lowell)
We humans have no prerogative on grief. Our lives entwine with happy moments and tragic in this vast web of existence, and Spring and loss are just two facets of possibility.
For contributions to Michael’s Makindye Foundation providing a home for street children in Uganda click on the link below. Michael and Angie appear in a photograph below the link.
https://www.gofundme.com/f/sustainability-support-for-the-makindye-foundation
MOONSIDE 
Grief and sorrow have a depth to them, which happiness and joy cannot. Perhaps that is why, an experience of grief connects us to our deepest inner self and unites us with other living creatures, with our shared being. Beautiful writing, dripping with palpable feeling and nostalgia!
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May 25, 2024 at 4:01 PM
Thank you so much, Ramble. You are so right about grief and sorrow going deep. Thank you, again, for your comment. 🙏🏽
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May 25, 2024 at 8:56 PM
Beautifully said, my friend. Grief is common to life because it’s the acknowledgement that life as we know it has ended. Culturally I don’t think we’re very good at it. We want to move on too quickly. I love the pictures of the animals you mentioned–pausing to remember, to see, to understand that their lives are different because of loss. Love the pictures as well. Thanks for sharing so vulnerably about your mom and her dog that you adopted. Why doesn’t the shared pain of loss draw us closer together? Just a question that wanders through my head too often.
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May 25, 2024 at 4:23 PM
Yes, why doesn’t this kinship with the animals bring us closer together? I don’t know why except from being unable to feel the grief animals feel. Thank you for your comment, Dayle.
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May 25, 2024 at 9:01 PM
Your examples of grief flush out what sadness feels like. Poor Koko! You and Koko must have been very close to your dear mother. Thank you for sharing your experience with grief.
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May 25, 2024 at 7:58 PM
I have often wondered why I feel melancholy in the spring but I think this is it, Ellen. The contrast of the sunny days and blooming flora are a foil for our grief, drawing more attention to it. You have once again hit the nail, so beautifully on the head. Your writing draws to our attention the idea that we are not alone in our grief but share it universally, even though we tend to forget this. I thought of little Ko-Ko last night and how she really represents all of us. 🩵
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May 26, 2024 at 11:00 AM
Just read your comment, dear Julie. 😍 It deeply touched me. I am glad my point got through. Little Ko-ko was one of my greatest teachers. ❤️ She DOES represent all of us. She especially represented me in so many ways that we think of as only human. But, no, they are in the animal kingdom, too… perhaps in their purest form. You really “get” what I am trying to say. And that is a great gift to me. So thank you❣️
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May 26, 2024 at 11:21 AM
I always get so much from your writing, Ellen. I think I will remind myself of this particular post whenever grief comes to my doorstep, especially in the springtime. I know it will provide comfort just like it did this year. 🙏💔❤️
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May 27, 2024 at 11:39 AM
Oh, I hope doesn’t come to your doorstep, Julie! Such a lovely comment!! 😍 🙏🏽 So touching… 😔 I hope we will be in touch whatever happens in our lives. Going to check your blog now to see if I have missed any posts.
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May 27, 2024 at 2:10 PM
❤️Somehow I feel like we will always be in touch in one way or another. I only blog about once a month, so that may be why it seems like you are missing posts. I know you see them, though, because you are usually the first to like them.😊 Love that!
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May 27, 2024 at 3:09 PM
That was beautiful. The photographs were lovely. Those emotions never leave us, but are sometimes put away until we find a simple piece of cloth that has them rushing to the forefront to be felt as if new, once again.
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May 26, 2024 at 12:43 PM
Thank you! You’re right. A simple piece of cloth can stimulate feelings you thought were long gone. Healed… but, no. Thanks for stopping by.🥰
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May 26, 2024 at 8:55 PM
Always a pleasure.
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May 27, 2024 at 12:08 AM
Happy Memorial day weekend! 🙏🏽
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May 27, 2024 at 9:32 AM
This resonates. Thank you, Ellen. ❤️❤️❤️🙏
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May 26, 2024 at 1:05 PM
Thank you so much! 🥰🙏🏽❣️
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May 26, 2024 at 8:56 PM
Dear Ellen,
Your post on grief envelops me like a warm blanket on a cold night, telling me that in life, it is inevitable to experience the deepest sorrow of loss, that I am not alone, that grief binds us together. How beautifully you describe the love you and your mother shared, and the memory vividly brought back by the green check cotton cloth neatly folded in the corner of a chest.
I lost two beloved brothers in a timespan of 5 days in 2020, and my beloved father in 2021. How much grief can a heart bear? Indeed, April is the cruelest month as you describe it so well, that while grieving continues, there is the cruel contrast between grief and the renewal of life everywhere.
Beautiful post as always, Ellen.
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May 27, 2024 at 10:11 PM
Dear D.G., Oh, God was cruel to you to have that happen… way too much loss in such short time. And recently, too. Somehow we keep going… though it feels like we shouldn’t or can’t. I am so very sorry for your losses… so recent, too. This is why I don’t want to come back again to this world… for all it’s beauty the pain is overwhelming… paralyzing… I suppose because I am too attached. Yes, but what do we do… not love? Anyhow my heart goes out to you. ❤️🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽❤️
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May 27, 2024 at 11:10 PM
“Spring and loss are just two facets of possibility”… oh my gosh, I am speechless! This is a sublime way of putting it! Wow, Linda xox
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May 30, 2024 at 2:50 AM
Thank you so much, Linda!!! ❣️
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May 30, 2024 at 11:00 PM
😘always welcome
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May 31, 2024 at 2:38 AM
💕 Fighting a migraine now…
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May 31, 2024 at 9:49 PM
Oh dear – mine was last night and this morning… I think I’ve escaped their clutches and then they sneak back for me. sigh. Get well soon – lots of healing vibes emanating from me to you! xox
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June 1, 2024 at 12:04 AM
Aww! Healing vibes from me to YOU! 🙏🏽
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June 1, 2024 at 1:10 AM
❤️Caught with gratitude❤️
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June 1, 2024 at 1:32 AM
😍
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June 1, 2024 at 2:03 AM
Bonjour Ami amie
Que le ciel soit gris ou ensoleillé
Je t’envoie ces mots pour égayer ta journée
Que cette journée te soit douce et enivré de bonheur et d’amour
Bise Amicale Bernard
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June 14, 2024 at 3:48 PM