“Grief is a big bowl to hold. It takes so many formations, so many textures and colors. You never know how or when it will rear its head and take a hold of you. Sometimes you cry unfathomably, some days you feel guilty because you haven’t cried, and in other moments you are so angry or filled with anxiety you just don’t know what to do.”
I thought I had won. The battle. Beaten the waves of emotion. It’s year four. I thought I’d passed. The tests. The hard stuff. The firsts. The surprises. The “creepers.” (Those grief moments that just appear.) But suddenly, it emerged. Like a tsunami. As tiny tremors, then earthquakes rocked my world, they unraveled the grief buried deep within. Rumbles. Shakes. And then. It surged. Like a storm. Reason? Don’t know. Subconscious trigger? Maybe. But it happened. While “real” tsunamis cause absolute devastation, “emotional” ones don’t. I survived. I weathered the storm. And I’m okay. It won’t be the first. Or the last. I’m lucky. Because. I know. I will be just fine.
Another lesson. Grief. It’s part of me. My soul. It’s there. So. I’m ready. No fear. No panic. Sometimes. My heart beats a bit faster. Or. My eyes fill with tears. Or. I might just feel. Something. But. I can do it with a smile. Still be happy. I’ve learned. It never goes away. It’s part of my being. It’s not something you tuck in a back pocket. And grab when grief calls. It’s just there. And you learn to live with it.
I’ve written about grief before. About the waves. And how to ride them. But in year four it’s different. It doesn’t weigh me down. I don’t feel heavy with sadness. Sorrow. Or loss. I focus on our blessings. (I say that a lot too.) Really focus. Think back to happy times. What we had. Our life. Our love. And how truly lucky I was to have so many beautiful years. How lucky I was to even have the bad ones. (And, yes, there were bad times. I’d be lying if I said they they were all perfect.) The bad times taught us how to appreciate the good. And now they teach me even more. How to appreciate each and every moment. To appreciate and love those in my life. To hug a little harder. Love a little more. And never, ever stop believing that life is good. Because it is.
In the words of Shania Twain, “Oh, life’s about joy, life’s about pain
Life’s about, life’s about to get good.” Oh yeah. Despite the pain. Despite the tears. Life’s about to get good.
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