Grief
Grief is magnetic and magenta heavy and dark, solid and fluid Grief is a heavy suitcase Grief is mother’s impromptu tears, outbursts, unexpected hugs Grief, unlike my father’s casket, cannot be buried Grief is a long train ride, with many mid-way stops Grief is a shadow, always following, always ahead Grief is untimely laughter and bursts of energy Grief is unkind Grief is a strange friend hollow and full Grief can only be understood by those who experience it Grief is a cruel blessing in disguise Grief is a long heartache Grief is an invitation into a new portal of self
Elaheh Farmand is an Iranian immigrant and writer. In 2016, she founded the series, “Immigrants & Exile: Stories of Nostalgia & Longing”. The series gives space for people to share their experiences of nostalgia, exile, and longing. Elaheh fights for and dreams of a society restructured to place people’s needs and wellbeing before profits. She is occasionally nostalgic for her childhood in Iran, but focuses her energy on organizing, connecting with her community, her family and friends.
Editors’ note: Our dear comrade and contributing editor Elaheh Farmand lost her father recently. She wrote this poem expressing her grief. We extend our condolences to her and her family.