Joe Crawford's personal website.

Grief 2010 Nov 09

Grief is lightning swift. Appearing at intervals that seem random. Overpowering. Agonizing. Then gone as swiftly as it comes.


Joe Crawford blogged this at 9:12pm in 2010 in November. The 9th was a Tuesday. You are reading this 9 years later. Comment. There are 6 comments Tweet. Send email. It has no hastags.

Comments: 6

Joe, that is a beautiful grief poem.

So a couple nights ago I’m up late as usual working on the computer with the TV on in the background–an ancient Trek:TNG episode, “The Masterpiece Society,”–and there’s this one scene that comes on with a piano recital, of Chopin’s Prelude in E Minor, which my mother used to play decades ago; and all at once I start bawling, for the loss of my mom, your mom, Sharon, everything.

Triggers remain where I least expect them.

Thank you both. It’s a comfort to know I’m not alone in my feelings.

those flashes are reminders that your mother is alive in your heart… it hurts now, and that is normal… I hope for you that one day they will be comforting.

take good care of yourself

I’m thinking about you a lot. I’m still working on “Whatsoever you do.” I wanted to finish it and send it before your mother’s passing. I agree with Laurel. Your words are beautiful.


Jennifer, “those flashes are reminders that your mother is alive in your heart” has me thinking deeply about the upside of being so sad so often.

And Natalie, thank you, I dropped you an email.

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