Grief doesn't come and go.
He mostly stays.
He is like a stranger who comes to call.
A big nasty stranger with mud on his shoes.
Someone frightening - someone you would not normally let into your house.
But he doesn't even ask - he opens the door and walks through you - like in a nightmare.
He picks your favorite chair and props his feet on the coffee table.
You don't like this uncomfortableness in your home
and hope this stranger will leave right away so you can get on with your chores.
But he moves in without even asking your permission,
claiming closets and bathrooms and dresser drawers and even your secrets.
Un-invited, he sits in the chair beside you
no matter which chair you choose.
He watches you undress.
He watches you eat.
He hears you laugh and rushes to make you bite your lip to stop.
He mocks you when you pray.
And he stays.