When Life gives you Lemons, throw them at monsters

Was it Beyonce who inspired the “when life gives you lemons …” revival? An early 20th century saying first included in an obituary and perfectly reflective of the human power, the human compulsion, to rail against the hard hands we might be dealt by others, by culture, by birth, or by the universe’s own utter randomness.

Whether, for Beyonce, the lemons she was passed were those plucked from the tree of infidelity or those born from a wider oppression, she named her work Lemonade and led a charge against accepting our lot.

Makes me think of grief.

We’re led to think of acceptance as the final stage of grief, as though grief and finality have ever met. As though finality were something which any griever would want. But some days the soothing of acceptance does just appear. For a bit. Just allows us a break. Some days we see our lemons and know that (this day) we seem to have the wherewithal to transform them into a more palatable lemonade.

Other days, the thought of even tolerating the lemons thrust upon us is a livid thing. A thing seething with rage. A thing to be railed against. And on these days, we throw.

It’s fine, and normal, and healthy, and expected, to feel anger in grief. Some days we feel the death of our person as an outrage. As a thing to be screamed at.

And on those days, when we simply cannot tolerate the sight of those lemons, we’re allowed to fuel our arms with our fury and to throw them at monsters.