Still Flapping

Everyone keeps asking how I am doing. How I am coping with my loss.

Well, here's a picture to show you how I feel:

Right now I am bound to grief and responsibilities and expectations. And all I am trying to do is continue on my way. No matter how hard I pull, or tug, or flap my wings, I can barely move my burden. And when I finally succeed in moving in two inches, there is a stair in the way. And another after that.

So how am I doing?


Frankly, 

I am exhausted. I have been carrying this load for so long and my fragile wings can no longer support my own weight. 

And yet I still have to make it to the top of the stairs.

No matter how tired I get,

No matter how much my wings ache,

No matter how appealing surrender sounds,

I have to keep flying.

Sure, my rests might be frequent, and there might be days where I feel like giving up, but I know that as I persevere a bit of the stone will chip off in the effort, and that my pain will lighten gradually.

I don't know how long it will take, but here is something I do know: Annie would want me to keep trying.