I’ve missed you, dearest soul tender. And if I’m honest, I planned on writing to you sooner… but life. A bully for my youngest. An illness for my teen. Recovering from covid brain fog. Multiple house guests. Honoring grief.
How have you been?
Are you stuck in grief?
It seemed that after my last two posts here, I couldn’t really get away from grief, loves. I wanted to write about all the different aspects of life for Life Writing Month (memoir month). Yet, grief continues to resonate most. Not because I’m crying all day every day - sometimes, I’m just beneath the surface of a melancholy wave. Other days, I’m a little bit angry. And still others, I’m actually at peace… while grieving. No, instead grief resonates most 1) because of my personal experiences of being mothered and motherhood that do persist (our cells hold onto so much!); and, 2) the whole of life on earth is one big fire and it’s impossible for me to ignore it.
I won’t drown in it either.
So, I’m tending to it (grief) with the brilliant Stacey Ramsower.
And, I’m using my voice about it.
Which leads me to a question for us:
Does grief take away voices?
I would say that in many cases it does. Case in point: every month, I gather with a wide variety of blessed bodies who are trying to make peace with what has been exceptionally hard on them in life. At Hope & Healing events, women and mothers and womb-bearers and partners consciously or unconsciously minimize grief.
“Well, I was only six weeks pregnant…”
“He didn’t mean it, so I should just get over it. Right?”
“I’m tired of parenting at the capacity I need to parent at - but I’m okay. I’m fine.”
“I had cancer. I don’t now. I should be more grateful than I am.”
Your voice matters.
In hearing the above scripts over and over again, I would be willing to say that the majority of humans in this country, on this planet and in this time do minimize their grief. We don’t give it space. And we certainly don’t give it a voice. Because once you give it a voice… then what?
Then, in my opinion, you must grieve.
Grieving is messy.
But maybe, just maybe, grieving is love.
What do you think?
I really, truly and completely believe that grieving heals us.
What I’m reading
Totally on the grief topic, I had to share about a book I absolutely loved.
Have you read the tender, bestselling novel They Both Die at the End by Adam Silva? If not, put it on your holiday reading list, beautiful humans. Without giving away too much, this is a candid glance into the hearts of two precious souls on their End Day. As someone who has feared death since my own experience with loss in childhood, I need books like this to remind me that death herself must not be feared. But instead, I personally must fear never really living. This book made me really, really want to live.
Maybe it will do the same for you.
I love you so much,
J. 🌻Jennifer Magnano
New here? Dear Soul Tender is a safe, inclusive and progressive faith-filled space where you can find contemplations at the intersection of caregiving, pain and peace. My promise here is to remind you of how to love well. Yourself, your kids, your neighbor, and the whole wide world.