Jonah as Grief Myth

Today I indulged in one of my favorite Sunday past times, reading Irish poet Padraig O’Tuama’s excellent substack. Today’s essay was “London and the underworld.” As he does each week, he invited readers to submit comments to a question. Today’s question is “what myths have helped you make sense of your lives?”

I immediately knew my response: Jonah in the clouds. My response appeared to resonate , so I’m posting it in full here:

“My eldest son Jonah died in 2013 following a car accident. I wrote a grief memoir about our special relationship, and Jonah as my Spirit Guide, called “Pine Melody.” I see him in the Great Expanse, that is to say, the sky, where he often takes on the forms of various recognizable beings that signal to me. This is my grief myth.”

Jonah in the Great Expanse,  communing with me via the clouds, is like all myths, a touchstone by which I live.

Myths are stories that lead us to truths.
My grief myth lets me ponder the fundamental  truth of existence, the quantum entanglement of my atoms and Jonah’s.  In this way, we continue to live together on this earthly plane.