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A Grief Observed

“What is Love, Baby don’t hurt me, no more” -Haddaway “What is Love”

“I say ‘honey what is love?’ You just say: “I drink too much” -Nothing but Thieves “I’m Sorry”

Grief, a topic no one wants to talk about, or go through.

Yet she happens all the same. I stopped for death, as Emily Dickinson once put it, death normally doesn’t have welcome visitors.

Normally, she is the least adored of all the fates.

And yet, this May 2021, she paid me a visit in the form of learning of Greg’s passing.

Only so much on this side of the pond I can do.

Yet “do” I did. I looked for the what and whereabouts of my dear friend Greg.

Grief delayed is horrible, unknown where and hows? Shrill, ringing in my skull.

At the end of all this however, I am grateful that my tireless efforts garnered the answer I was looking for, or at least a parshall knowing of.

If I had one last conversation with Greg, I would first say that I loved him and secondly, I slap him silly because he left without my being able to say ‘goodbye.’

“It’s not goodbye, it’s until we meet again.” -Jimmi Hendrix

I have drawn a very poor rendition of the tattoo I now have of my left forearm of the Star of David.

It reminds me of who I am in Jesus, and Whose I am in God.

What prompted this you might ask?

Greg was part of it, he inspired me to be a better person; to be kind and rewind myself.

Greg pulled me back from self-harm more times than I care to remember and oddly in a good way, I don’t have that endless agony.

My faith, tattoo and his memory of selfless gritty love ground me.

Now Greg I tuck you into the bed of my mind.

Goodnight, and until we meet again. Sleep well my friend.

-Your ‘Other’ Autistic Friend,

Hannah Capps

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