I can do it by myself.

My grief, my mourning, will not always be something I want to share.  And it will not be on command. My family, I'm sure you understand. I do not want to share my grief with you. No prayer circles and no visits to church. I have my Bible. It sees me through. There will be no pictures this year. There will be no memorials. My heart handles this one alone. I said goodbye to my brother Malcolm three years ago.  I cannot keep saying goodbye. I've let go because I've let God take over that grief as much as I will let him. It's no longer mine to bear. I let go. My love and my grief, I show it in my own way. My wailing is for God and his ears alone. One day that may change, but this is how I function. But for me, when I said I was handing over that grief, I meant it. My faith is so resolute that I have no doubt his spirit is taken care of and his physical self is only a shell of who he was. That being gone, I have faith his spirit has moved on to better things. It has taken me 3 years to reach this transformation of grief. Sometimes I worry some of my family thinks I'm maybe a little cold. They probably don't. I'm sure they love me enough to respect my need of personal space about this. I'm just writing this now in case they feel the need to find out why I didn't join any prayer circles or try to make my way to Brooklyn today. I'm at a different place of healing. It's a place by myself that can only be touched by God. 


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