National Grief Awareness: I’m Fine.

Grief. It is truly and utterly impossible to describe this dreaded word unless you have truly experienced a loss that rocks your entire world off of its axis. When it comes to my own grief journey after losing my husband eleven months ago, I have documented a lot of my ups and downs through poetry. Here are just a few…

Fine

“I’m fine” she says.
“I’m ok,” “I’m alright,” “I’m good,”
But inside she’s dying…
Perhaps died right alongside him.
Each day still starts though,
Her shell walks among the living,
Trying to hide the truth behind her smile.
Doing what she has to,
To carry on with what is left,
By learning how to carry it all….
The grief that consumes her everyday,
Reminds her of how broken she still is,
But if you ask her how she is doing,
Words will never depict the longing,
The destruction, heartbreak and pain.
So she chooses something simpler,
To avoid going to that place.
I’m fine. I’m alright. I’m ok. I’m good.
I’m…
I’m…
I. Am…still breathing…
Lost.
Surviving,
Angry.
Sad.

Without You

It’s the empty side of the bed I once found sanctuary on.
The voice of reason, now an echo in the dark.
The titanium ring around my neck
Whispers promises of a forever we never got.
The wrinkles I’ll never see and the grey hairs you never had.
It’s your arms that always comforted me.
It’s the inside joke no one understands,
It’s the silence in my broken heart.
The song that was just us,
A melody solely in tune with what was ours,
It is the uncertainty of tomorrow, each time I try to rest.
Its the pictures around my bedroom,
That hold memories so naive.
It’s our nightly routine and kisses goodnight,
The ending we never so coming.
It’s your reflection looking back at me, each time I hold your son.
It’s the dreams no longer an option, and the chapter one that has begun.
The weight of the world you once endured for us, now lies at our steps.
It’s the regret and should haves and would haves,
That I would do over a million times if given the chance.
The nights are the most difficult…
As I lay my hand on the cold space that was your side.
And remember a time when it was warm…
When your heart beat next to mine.

Simple

Today I put on mascara
to go to the grocery store
For a gallon of milk we were low on
A lame attempt to feel like the me that was “before”.
I walked around aimlessly
After grabbing that gallon of milk
Studying the strangers around me
Wondering if anyone could tell.
Can anyone see the tears,
The sadness drowning out my eyes?
How does no one else feel the earthquake,
That just destroyed my life?
As I walked around that store
In nothing but a daze
I wonder how many times before I lost him
Did I pass a stranger suffering the same amount of pain.
As I pushed my empty cart
In circles around that store
I daydreamed about this simpleness
Of a life that was before…
Tomorrow terrifies me,
Living in a world without him,
I can only pray to make it through today…
And finish checking out this gallon.

What If

I have infinite alternate endings,
That night, my world came crashing down
The night your heart stopped beating.
Altering the rhythm of my very own.
I make it to the hospital.
To find you sitting up in bed…
Smiling and laughing at my worry
And then retreating, hand in hand.
Time is supposed to be infinite, isn’t it?
At least in a sheltered mind, it is…
We think we have tomorrow
Until tomorrow doesn’t exist
Oh hubby…time haunts me…
The what if’s and the would haves,
Reflect in the mirror each day.
The could haves? The should haves?
God, there is so much more I would say.
Grief is all consuming.
It makes you want so much, but too late,
The sadness is overwhelming
And the pain is unbearable most days.
To live without the love,
The love that gave you life…
It incapacitates you, makes you crazy.
How will I ever be alright?

On National Grief Awareness Day and everyday, I just want whoever reads this to know you aren’t alone in your grief. Don’t hide behind it…you and your story are worth it. You. Aren’t. Alone. Hugs and love to each of you, from me…Someone who also is most definitely not fine.

About Marissa Mast

Mother. Writer. Painter. Runner. Student. Extroverted-Introvert. Lover of romantic novels. Wine
connoisseur. Poet. Concert junkie. Stay-at-home mommy. Wife…Or more recently, widow.
There are many different words and ways I would describe myself over the years, none of which I ever
thought would include the title of “widow”…Especially at the age of 30. Alas, I inherited the title on
September 29 th , 2017 when my young, healthy, 36 year old husband passed away suddenly and
unexpectedly. Life has given me the biggest, most unforeseen curveball I could have ever imagined, but in the wake of this tragedy, my late husband continues to motivate me to become a stronger woman and mother to
our four year old, little boy.
When I am not chasing around our little guy, I have recently come to enjoy running and CrossFit, and trying to live a healthier, fuller lifestyle in honor of the man who stole my heart at 18, and in honor of the woman I want to become. I am also a full-time student going back for my Teaching License and an avid writer and reader…Both of which have saved my life throughout this journey in grief. There is nothing more beautiful and freeing then speaking your truth and absorbing the words and stories of others.