It's been six months without Mum, and my attempt to find books that I can relate to on the subject of grieving has left me weary.
I've searched Amazon, and numerous stores in the quest to find *something* that even remotely echoed my sentiments and emotions, and I haven't parted with a single dollar. The closest I've come to unlocking a kindred spirit book-wise was 'The Heart Does Break', a stirring collection of essays by Canadian writers. While not every account spoke to me, several did especially Jill Frayne's achingly beautiful piece. This publication ~ one that I discovered before my Mum died ~ is still a lone presence on my nightstand.
I'm not religious, and only somewhat spiritual. The majority of the books on the market cater to this segment of the population. I wish there were more accounts of the grieving process that didn't revel so much in abstract ideas, or fantasy. I'm thirsty for reality, even if it hurts. Such tomes could possibly prove to be a more gritty and less comfortable read, but I would welcome them - warts and all. In my experience, grieving isn't pretty. It's suffocating, dark and cold. Focusing on another world (heaven?) is a comforting notion but I yearn for a more tangible reflection of the process too.