Grief by Ellie Fernandez

Like wide, firm hands being pressed deep into the skin on my chest, the pressure remains. My heart tender, my eyes wide, tears welling up from the depths of my being, forming and falling, forming and falling. Each tear rolling down my cheek, each telling a story of pain, sorrow, and each tear being captured by my father’s kind warm hands. Grief, the word that sends shivers down spines or puts knots in others’ throats. There are those kinds of people that meet grief with ‘at least’s,’ the silver lining of such pain, who haven’t learned the art of getting lowly, falling to your knees, and being messy as our Jesus so honestly does.