Lately I’ve been thinking about how you would see me now after eight months. Would you say that I have handled this momentous life change reasonably well and grown through the experience? Or that I am still crippled by grief and wallowing in self-pity? I think the answer lies somewhere in between; and also varies from one day to the next, and, in some cases, from hour to hour.
That is the nature of grief. First there is numbness and shock, then the sadness and anger show up like the painful awakening of sleeping nerve endings. For a while the pain seems constant and unrelenting; but eventually the acute pain starts to diminish and waxes and wanes like the phases of the moon. Eventually, it creeps below the surface as a dull ache lurking in the background like a predator waiting to jump out, attack, and then retreat again.
I think I am over the initial shock and acute pain stages. I have come to terms with the reality that you are gone and am living somewhere between holding on to the memories of a past life together and existing in a new life without you except in memories. Some days are better than others; but all things considered, lately there are more “good” days than bad.
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