Before we meet Grief, it’s as if we’re walking with the happiest skip. We seem to babble our jolly way along a beautiful path, surrounded by sweet smelling spring flowers. As if in the summer sunshine we take for granted the butterflies and to hear the skylark. For now we do not know Grief personally, we only catch glimpses of Grief walking along a tree shadowed, parallel path slightly lower than where we walk and with other individuals who’s expressions scare us. They sometimes startle us as they shout things like “NO! NO! NO!” at Grief and make loud sob whispers of “please, why?” as Grief seems to patiently listen and replies privately to each traveller. We certainly do not wish to intrude! It all seems so dark in there and somewhere we seriously do not wish ourselves to go. The sunshine seems to fade a little, our path starts to become covered in pretty autumn leaves and our tracks get covered. Suddenly we slip, landing heavily and painfully upon Grief’s path! In sheer panic we react in ways we never knew was within us. Knowingly, Grief says in a quiet loving voice things like “Beloved we will take our time for a while and walk together, the cool shade of the trees will help with the heat of the pain”. Still we plead with Grief for our original happy footprints and try to look back for them, but Grief reminds us that this path is to be walked in a forward direction. Grief does not wish us to slip on the ice and snow of sadness, but tread carefully in our own way. Walking patiently with us Grief talks us through the mucky thawing. We think to slip away forward to the past, but the truth is that although they might never seem the same, the flowers will bloom for the new spring in time and seasons are worth the wait.