I was talking to John the other day about grief and lonliness, and I said to him, “I just want to be nurtured.” That’s a very vulnerable statement for me to make. It means admitting that I’m weak and needy.
Walking around with the weight of grief is much like battling an illness or a sudden handicap. You are stripped away of many of the aspects of what made you strong and functional before. You are now the needy one.
It’s kind of like the first time you got the flu when you were out on your own, either away at college, newlywed, or in your little one bedroom apartment all alone. And you whined, “I just want my Mom!” You want chicken soup and a cold rag on your head and the feel of her hand on your face. You want her to bring you books and magazines and put soft clean sheets on your bed.
You just want to be nurtured.
It’s an awkward, uncomfortable transistion to make when you are previously the strong one and suddenly you are so very weak.
You want to be “cared for, looked after, encouraged, assisted, helped, strengthened, fueled.”
Not fixed. Just nurtured.
And to be honest just like when you’re newly independent, away from your family and your mom can’t be there. There are times in grief when no one can be there. Times when it’s very lonely.
I am grateful for those who find moments in their lives to extend arms, words, and acts that nurture. A few of you who seemed to appear right on the heals of my cry, “I just want to be nurtured.”