It's super vulnerable to publically process through my experience with grief, but since I chose to make it public through this little blog of mine, and because so many of you have been on this journey with me, I am continuing to process with you. Thank you for your continued Grace and support of me.
About 3 years ago I wrote this post about being in the space where some of Matt's ashes are. The poem emerged through a very ethereal experience and is one I value as a part of my journey.
I returned there this week and another poem emerged about my process with grief now and the wrestling I have done over the last several days because of it. It's a bit wobbly, but I want it documented here, with you.
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The Space of Life
I am at The Sacred
where life and death
cohabitate.
Where the majestic and
the broken
lays its head.
Where growth, change, and Life
emerge despite doubt and fear.
I’ve suffered this week--holding the
weight of what could have been--holding the
should be--
trying to recognize this weight and still
trying to see that life can be
Life.
hearing, seeing, feeling, tasting, touching,
Being.
I see the pictures of you.
I cherish.
I wrestle.
I release.
You see what I can’t;
what I shouldn’t.
You give.
You honor.
I am free.
You were the Was.
It does not imprison me.
I am in the Is.
I am in the Is.
There is Life and Hope
Here,
and There,
in me. 
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