It’s incommunicable how much life grief takes from you.

It’s the life itself.

It’s the relationship.

Then, it’s all relationships.

It’s the griever’s energy.

It’s the griever’s social capacity.

It’s the griever’s concentration.

It’s the griever’s loss of clarity.

It’s the griever’s loss of stability.

It’s the griever’s loss of comfort.

It’s — The list never stops.

Every single survivor is affected holistically, and it’s impossible to communicate. It’s impossible for outsiders to understand, it’s impossible for outsiders to see, and perhaps it’s impossible for outsiders to believe.

It’s impossible for survivors and observers to fathom.

So much life gone with the loss of one individual’s life. It takes everything. She took everything from me.

She took everything from me. There is not a corner of my life unaffected by her decision.

Some people try their hardest to beautifully ease the burden she left, some people intentionally add to that burden.

Nearly a year ago, volunteers from the Women’s Ministry at my mother’s church joined together to create a beautiful atmosphere after her funeral. They provided nourishment and filled a room with flowers, honoring my mother and my family. I often think of the beauty they created, and the tenderness they wanted to continue towards me and my family, with gratitude and kindness. They eased the burden.

Our small group raised a small fortune to help support me and Scott and Sawyer when we were out of work, and they even made a sweet basket for my dad.

Dozens made and brought food to our families. Some sent packages, some gave books, some brought flowers.

Some still do.

There’s so much loss in this life after death, it’s as if the acres of my life have burnt to the ground. The fire of her death consumed everything, and every bit pained me to death, too.

Life on every acre ceased that day, but the ground of my life remained. I lived.

I live, this empty, decimated, desolate life, but life returns after all wildfires. Maybe at first it’s just grass, and then wildflowers, and then one day maybe trees will grow and roots will return to this ground that’s covered in ash.

So much life destroyed with the death of one so beloved.