advent journal: kitchen question

10
1971

I have spent the evening

baking, not writing.

I have swirled my sadness

into the mix of

butter, sugar, eggs

because I know

what to do with

butter, sugar, and eggs.

Baking the same cookie

doesn’t feel repetitive;

why does writing

about grief feel

as though I am saying

the same thing

over and over and over?

I think I’ll have a cookie.

 

Peace

Milton

10 COMMENTS

  1. “This is the kind of pain from which we don’t recover.” Mary Chapin Carpenter. And maybe we don’t want to recover. Incorporate is a better idea. Eventually there are tiny little moments where the grief is in your pocket, and you know you can pat it now and take it out to look at later. I promise. I have also started a few traditions to honor them. A little comfort is a good thing.

  2. I heard about your blog through a mutual friend late last summer; it was coincidentally at a time when I embarked on a journey overflowing with tremendous grief. Much of what you have shared at times resonates strongly with something I have felt in my grief, as well. I have appreciated that you continue to process your grief in writing. I identify with feeling repetitive in my journaling and processing, which is exactly why I find comfort in the fact that you continue to process yours and share it. Sometimes it is what you say that brings comfort, sometimes it is the fact that you are still saying it. Anyway, thanks for being open in this space.

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