Sometimes, the Beast attacks in rapid succession. It pounces on you again and again, never giving you a chance to catch your breath in between. Sometimes, the Beast waits for days, sometimes weeks, between attacks, and the added surprise is enough to stop your heart. The Beast is ruthless and vicious. It tears you down so easily, like ripping the corner off a piece of paper. You are weak and vulnerable, and you wonder how you keep surviving. Somehow, though, you do. Day after day. You bleed and you heal. Your life becomes two moments. The attack and the aftermath.
Grief is ugly. It is raw and gaping and painful. One might argue there is nothing beautiful about it. How could there be? How can a bloodbath be beautiful?
The beauty in grief lies not in the attack of the beast, but in the time that comes after. It lies in the determination you develop to keep your heart beating despite the fact it's in shreds. Your heart, broken and battered, becomes the heart of a Warrior. You become a fighter, a fierce and worthy adversary for the Beast. You know you can't stop it from attacking you, but you still fight for your own survival. Where before, you may have taken some things in life for granted, now you fight for every shred of happiness and joy you can find. You recognize that nothing is guaranteed, and so you hold on to each moment with trembling fingers, pulling it in close and savoring its flavor. You live your life minute by minute, which to some, might seem stressful and reckless, but you know it's the only way you can be. You learn the Beast attacks you because, despite your sorrow, you are still completely and utterly in love with your baby. The emptiness your child left behind is still there, yes, but, the other places of your heart, the places that can still be filled, are filled with unconditional love. You hurt because you love. You love starlight, a whisp, a dream, a memory. You love a baby you cannot hold or watch grow. And, while that may be enough to make some people just give up completely, you, my Warrior, would never do that. You don't let the Beast take away the love you hold so tightly. No matter how much you bleed, no matter how much you are torn to pieces, you never let the Beast harden your heart. You love, deeply and immensely, with full knowledge that the more you love, the harder the beast will bite down. You look the Beast dead in the eye and you sneer into its frothing mouth, "I will not be beaten. I will not give in. You will not take my love for her away from me." The pain of grief is unspeakable, most definitely. Yet, in that pain, lies unspeakable love, like a glistening diamond buried inside sharp shards of broken glass.
And, despite the pain, that love, that pure, undying love, like shimmering moonlight on a dark and angry ocean...is beautiful.