NOT UNTIL THIS MORNING
My husband received a letter on his Red Hand Files, from someone called Gaz from Kiama in Australia. Attached was this beautiful quote from the great American writer, Raymond Carver. I post it here on Stuff, as it so beautifully describes the strange, impossible mechanics of grief.
Raymond Carver wrote about discovering grief in a moment of understanding.
Woke up early this morning and from my bed
looked far across the Strait to see
a small boat moving through the choppy water, a single running light on.
Remembered my friend who used to shout his dead wife’s name from hilltops around Perugia. Who set a plate for her at his simple table long after she was gone.
And opened the windows so she could have fresh air. Such display
I found embarrassing. So did his other friends.
I couldn’t see it.
Not until this morning.
By Raymond Carver