I stayed in the place soaked in rage and grief, futility and sadness, until it was finally time to go.

I stayed. And in my humanness, raged against the necessity and alternately accepted and refused to accept what is — like a toddler reluctantly learning that she is not the sun.

And then, when the time came and I recognized it, I walked away from the place that held the chaos of our pain, our clusterfuck of sorrow, the rage and grief, futility and sadness.

It was finally time to go, and I was overwhelmed with the suddenness, the moving, the clearing and the cleaning, the support, the circle of my people, the help.

I walked away, leaving what I didn’t need anymore, what no longer served me, not with the intention of burdening others with it, but to leave it quietly behind, allowing it to dissipate in some hopeful, gentle, and fruitful form into the universe.

From rage and grief, futility and sadness, I walk away, taking that which is still mine, setting my course toward what is now.