Grief slithers in between Death's legs.

He descends on the unsuspected living leaving his victims helpless, lost and confused.

Grief cares not about one's age, gender, or ability to cope.

Grief has the ability to consume anything and everything it can coil around.

Grief has paid me a visit several times in my life. Each time he sported a different bag of emotions.

I'm trying to remember the first time I recall his visit.

I think I was probably nine or ten. He waltzed through the door after the death of my great-grandmother. This was a woman I recall only seeing once or twice my whole life up until that point.

Grief didn't stay long. He really only popped in for a day or two and was gone. I really didn't get to know him.

Years went by and I only heard others talk about Grief visiting them. I didn't think he was such a big bad deal. He hadn't been so bad when I had met him. I wondered if they were even talking about the same guy.

In the 80s, Grief decided he wanted to see me more often.

He visited when my boyfriend's grandmother and grandfather passed away. He visited again when my boyfriend-turned-husband's sister died. Grief came yet again with the death of my own grandfather and grandmother. Each time he didn't stay all that long. He politely left without much fuss after spending several days camped out with me.

Grief began to want to stay longer with the death of one of my favorite uncles.

He was the father of my cousin that is like a sister to me. I had more questions for Grief this time. I required more answers.

Didn't he and his partner Death realize that my uncle had grandbabies he needed to take fishing?

My cousin and her two younger brothers needed their father!

My aunt needed the love of her life!

But, again, Grief only stayed as long as he needed to and as quickly as he came, he was gone.

Grief came in thunderously in all his flamboyant glory in October 2003. This time he hauled in trailer loads of baggage with the obvious intent to stay. Grief took up residence the day Death took my son.

Grief wasn't quite the same man he had been on previous visits. He didn't seem as kind as he once had been. Nor could he seem to keep up with the barrage of questions I was throwing at him. He just sat there staring blankly at me.

Why can't you explain it to me, dammit?!

Why, my Kevin? Why? Didn't anyone tell Death that I needed Kevin? Who dropped the ball on this? I needed to know!

Grief sat with his arms folded tight, feet up on my coffee table. He wasn't budging. I knew he didn't have the answers and he knew he didn't. He sat there with all his smugness. He knew what I had to do. He always knows. But he refused to help me.

OMG...I wasn't prepared for this! Never had I allowed myself to imagine the possibility! It is a parent's worse nightmare!

One day, I was too numb to remember when, Grief pointed to the computer with his gnarly finger.

That's it! Surely, there were answers there!

Quickly, I typed in Grief's name and I stumbled upon a website on how to deal with him. It had page, after page, after page, of people who been led to this same site by Grief's gnarly finger. Each of them were telling their stories of how Death and Grief had burst into their lives and left them dazed and confused and without answers.

Answers. It seemed that each and every one of them needed the same thing, answers.

Why? Why had Death visited them? Why not someone else? Why today? Why not 50 years from now? Why not, after I'm gone?

As I spent day after day absorbed in reading these other stories and telling them my own, something peculiar happened. I looked around and there didn't seem to be as much of Grief's baggage lying around. Could it be he was tidying up when I wasn't looking? He actually seemed to be going out some, instead of sitting next to me so often.

Wonder where he goes? Paying short visits to others, I suppose.

One day, without notice, I looked around to find Grief gone.

I don't know when he left.

He made no grand departure.

Like the slitherer he is, he slipped out the door without a sound.

But he and his friend Death, certainly left reminders of their visit. You see, they don't take everything when they go. They leave little reminders, lest you forget. Ha....never.

Grief still visits me, but now I only catch the glimpse of his black cloak as he passes my window.

Grief is necessary and he will only stay as long as he needs to be there. There is no need to push him out and there's no need to make him comfy because he won't stay forever.

The website I make reference to is called Beyond Indigo. I am not affiliated with them in any way. They simply were there for me when I needed them and I make it a point to tell others that are grieving that it's a great resource.