On Grief – Part 4 – Hello Anger

I did some art therapy outside today under our big poplar tree.  I got into this technique last fall and found it to be effective.  I began by drawing sad, crying eyes, writing all sorts of words that came to mind.  Tears. Loss.  My friend.  And then – Why?

Why her?
Why so young?
Then I thought of the Billy Joel song, “Only The Good Die Young.”
And paused.

Then, I picked up the black colored pencil.  Held it for a moment.  Black.  That’s a good color for anger.  Then wrote it out.  ANGER.

I AM ANGRY.
Black lines followed, all over the page.  I need more than just black, I thought.  I paused.
Then I picked up the red pencil.  Good color, I thought, drawing a rose with jagged petals and thorns.  Lots of thorns.
“Only the good die young,” I hummed softly.
Why is that?
Seriously, I want to know.  WHY?

Why is it that it seems those who die young are the good ones?  Why is it little children get stricken with horrible diseases?  Why is it the good ones die young?  Friend and hairdresser extraordinaire Desiree, dead at 48.  Cancer.  Sweet sister-in-law, dead at 53, cancer.  And now Susie Q.  Dead at 55.  Cancer.

Why in the hell is it the dark ones live to be old?  Look at political leaders, war criminals, terrorists, the wife beaters, corrupt CEO’s and fuck, just look at the royals.  That damn bitch queen lives forever.  WHY?  Where in the hell is the justice in THAT?

I don’t want to hear the good ones are the angels here to teach us about love.  We ALL know what love is.  If they are here to teach us love, why doesn’t Life let them stick around?  Don’t we need MORE love in this reality?  I mean we all know what dark is.  We certainly don’t need any more lessons on much less examples of dark.  Why let IT stick around?

I’ve been told “their light was needed in heaven”.  I’ve had to hear “it was their time”.  And I’ve had to endure listening to those speak of God’s Will as though they have first-hand knowledge of Divine Plan.

Please.  ENOUGH.

I am GRIEVING.  I am sad.  I am angry.  My sweet friend died too soon.  PERIOD. Her partner however, who beat her regularly, gets to go on living.  There is something just wrong about that.  It isn’t part of God’s plan.  And it isn’t because it was simply their time to go.  It is because it just IS.

And sometimes what IS just fucking stinks so bad it burns a hole in your heart, forever changing you, forever leaving you with an empty response when you again ask “why?”

 

 

 

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Author: Victoria1111

Truthseeker. Philosopher. Goddess. Starwoman. Freedom and Justice Creator. Writer. Musician. Composer.

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