Grief Out Loud

I like this person’s writing. He talks about how in the village people were in they would do this and walk with the person.

Yet, as Prechtel says, “Grief expressed out loud for someone we have lost, or a country or home we have lost, is in itself the greatest praise we could ever give them. Grief is praise, because it is the natural way love honors what it misses.”

IMG_2081 IMG_2084 IMG_2093Today as I hiked in the snow and no one was in the meadow I finally reached I spoke to the sky and to Lupine and laughed and cried.  My memory is jogged by the pools of water and later by the funny recollection of Lupine setting off car alarms in the parking lot at the Co-Op.

She is peeking into cars that she must smell a dog but even if one is not there her paws go up and the alarm went off. Three times she did this as people came running out of the store.

Another experience with her is the Billy Goat Gruff in the back seat of the car. She likes to lie in wait for someone to go by the car or better yet park right next to it and then leap up and plaster herself against the window. I have indentations in the marshmallow leather on one window. I like running my fingers where her feet were.

Down in the meadow I find the pools and grassy holes she likes to drink out of and where she swam when we first came to Big Tesuque. It is like I restore her to something she is rather for her sake then what took her down.  I remind the gods about her full measure, all of it.

The beauty of the leaves stashed in the rotten logs, the too deep holes my feet suddenly fathom all feel good and to capture some pieces of this every changing landscape in full circle as spring presses through the sound of the birds, the mud as water forms paths and ridges to place my feet as I spiral down and then back up the waterway and hillside.

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