A week after Sandy, we extend our condolences and sympathies to those affected. In the wake of the storm, I was reminded of a pretty poem about grief by Denise Levertov.
Talking to Grief
Ah, grief, I should not treat you like a homeless dog who comes to the back door for a crust, for a meatless bone. I should trust you. I should coax you into the house and give you your own corner, a worn mat to lie on, your own water dish. You think I don’t know you’ve been living under my porch. You long for your real place to be readied before winter comes. You need your name, your collar and tag. You need the right to warn off intruders, to consider my house your own and me your person and yourself my own dog.
- Denise Levertov
If we turn our back on grief, if we deny its rightful place, we are not fully human. When we are saddened by loss—whether our own or that of others—we must take it in, ponder it, live with it. We must feel its sadness, and act on it. In a time like this, when so many of our neighbors have lost so much, I am grateful for my fate, for I have not lost my home or a loved one. But I can only truly be grateful for my own fortune if I let my heart fill with the grief of those less fortunate. Then, being full of grief, I must turn my gratitude into action, by helping others.
For those interested in supporting the relief effort, visiting www.nycservice.org is a great place to start.