Sand & Water
My grief is like a jar of Sand and Water.
Each grain a memory, a thought, an emotion, a connection to You.
No two are the same, each one significant…
The second You were gone was the moment the sand filled my jar.
Each grain finding is own way down, twisting and turning, right and left.
Some taking longer to find their place… swirling and sloshing about, resting a moment then moving the next. Caught in a current.
Others sink hard and fast.. Knowing exactly where they are meant to end up.
The jar is stoic and strong, reflective and translucent. A constant even level of water contained within, at all times.
The water is visibly different from the sand, yet it is impossible to separate an individual grain without intentional & difficult effort.
The sand has changed since it was poured into this jar… it is calm, almost solid, like a lump in your throat.
Every now and then, out of nowhere, the jar gets spun around on its axis. The grains of sand at the top are unexpectedly, unwillingly tossed around…. Bumping into one another, disturbing the calm, crystal, reflective water.
Confined within the stoic jar never revealing the tornado within.. .
The moving sand causes some water to find it’s way out of the jar.
I watch as it clings to its shape and finds the path of least resistance.
The grains on the top spin and whirl; yet those on the bottom have settled so tightly and so deep that they are unrecognizable as individual grains. They have taken on the shape of the jar, filling a hole that was otherwise empty. Never will they become the jar… the water keeps the two apart.
This jar I carry with me, always. It is never a burden or a chore… it is all I have.
It is inside of me where You once were. It has taken your place.
Just to say that out loud has caused my jar to spin and stir up the sand and water within.
I accept my jar and I hold it tightly… it is all I have… it is my connection to You.