208 Days
A plan to outrun grief
Penned March 20, 2025 by Penny Sue Denim
Widows who’ve gone before guide the inexperienced, scattering like bread crumbs, stories of what it’s like a little farther along.
And you think, “Please, God, no!”. Because you want it over with and you want it to become forgotten, aside from the faintest outline. Like the pain of childbirth. Or getting your appendix out.
But the experienced sojourners call back to you saying, “I’m sorry, but you can’t outrun it. . .”
And you say, “Damn you! I’ll do it differently. I’ll outrun it if it’s the last thing I do. I defy tears to wet my cheeks two, or three, or ten years from now!” You shake your fist.
They say, “The tears will still come. You can’t avoid them.”
Others say, “But you will have the memories.”
And you think, “Memories?! What fresh hell is this? What business do memories have trying to replace flesh & bones and the butterflies of a constantly renewing love? These ethereal memories, an acceptable consolation prize?”
And this thought experiment ends here.
Because all you have is 208 days of lost innocence and a compulsion for the void to simply disappear, coupled with the simultaneous disbelief and horror at the suggestion that memories could some day fill this void.
~ ps denim
With accompaniment from My Unapologetic Playlist:
Dear reader: When we interact, we get an instant passport to travel the world through each other’s eyes—whether wading through grief, exploring equity, trying on theology, navigating the modern dating world, pressing into parenthood, or taking some other deeply human journey. What we all have in common is that we need each other.
The great thing about digital treks is that here, what you pack in, you don’t have to pack out. You’re encouraged to leave something behind. That’s what builds community.
See the cute little ❤️ below? Clicking it makes me feel like you picked up a souvenir just for me. If you unpack your thoughts in a comment, or give this a Restack, I’d be even more delighted! You can also follow me on Notes (I’ll follow you back) and we can keep exploring together.
Thinking of you & your family in this sad time! Maybe some mother-daughter time
together to do special things she enjoys might give her new interests to fill the space her friend’s departure has left. Hoping and praying she finds new friends and that you are comforted also.
My father, whom I barely knew due to a divorce when I was two months old, died suddenly at age 51 in July of an aortic aneurysm. Today I can think of him with regret, but without tears. I will love him forever, but time has healed that awful, tearing grief. Church helped and still does. I survived, but it really hurt! These older women are trying to help. They understand what your loss means to you, but are farther past the wrenching loss of a loving spouse. Praying for you & your family.