Who would be a turtle who could help it? A barely mobile hard roll, a four-oared helmet, / She can ill afford the chances she must take / In rowing toward the grasses that she eats. / Her track is graceless, like dragging / A packing-case places, and almost any slope /Defeats her modest hopes.
—Kay Ryan, Turtle
Two weeks ago, I stopped to watch a turtle cross the road.
Seriously. A turtle hustled across the street to the curb of the sidewalk. I never saw a turtle hustle like this…so I stopped to take a picture. I considered helping the turtle on to the sidewalk.
Then, the turtle surmounted the curb.
You read that correctly.
I witnessed this turtle climb, fall, get back up, and try again and again and again. This process wholly mesmerized me. And then…
And then, the turtle crosses the street and scales the curb.
Who would be a turtle who could help it?
Who would be a griever who could help it?
Who would be the medical power of attorney, power of attorney, or executor who could help it?
So many times throughout the journey, we ask questions like these of ourselves and with ourselves. When we ache with grief and bear the weight of logistical responsibilities, we may loathe anything that resembles a turtling.
And then, the turtle crosses the street and scales the curb.
Who would be a turtle who could help it? Have you ever felt like a turtle in your life? Or has your grief or logistical work felt “turtlish”? Maybe you need to hustle across the street or a few moments to hide in your shell. Perhaps you’ve hit a curb that seems insurmountable. Wherever you are, please know that you are not alone, and there is not one right way.
If you seek to have a space for your grief to live out loud, leave a comment and share some of your sacred story.
With you on the journey,
Megan (she/her) AKA The Accidental Matriarch

Thank you so much for being here. If you’d like more support in your loss and logistics journey, please be in touch. Grief may be solitary work, but you do not need to do it alone.