Grief-by-Becky-Hemsley-20260327.jpg

Grief does not shrink with time.

It doesn’t dim or dull and it doesn’t set itself down with the sun as she settles at dusk. Instead it lingers, like a shadow that stretches longer and leaner as the sun sinks in the sky.

Grief does not become silent with time. Instead it becomes a constant rhythm; always there but rarely quiet. A space where memories echo, and where the heart can break all over again in unexpected moments.

Like rolling waves that ebb and flow.
Like rolling clouds that swell and subside.
Like rolling thunder that roars and retreats.

No, grief does not lessen with time. It does not start to fade or disappear into nothingness. Instead, it becomes the backdrop to who we are and to everything we do. Like scenery at the back of the stage that is sometimes pulled forward; the weight of it felt anew in these moments, sparked by a song, a scent, a forgotten photograph. And in those moments, grief is as front and centre as it ever was.

Grief does not shrink, but it changes shape. It adapts to the life it must live in a world that doesn’t want it. The sky gets a little wider and the ocean a little deeper. The stage makes space for it and the clouds roll in and out with it. The heart expands and the soul stretches; to take in the grief alongside the love that it longs for.

And steadily – like the seasons changing leaf by leaf, flower by flower -life grows around it;
so that after a while, we find ourselves living too.
Alongside this grief that has shaped itself around us.
Alongside this grief that has shifted continually
until we are both a little more comfortable.
Alongside this grief that never learned to shrink.

But that has simply learned

to ‘fit’.

*****
Becky Hemsley 2025

Using:
Sorrow by Connie Prince
Way back when by Buzzbee Scraps (Clocks)
April 2018 Kit by Connie Prince
Jan 2026 Mini Kit by Connie Prince

Font: Coniferous