Grief has no finish line. No measuring tapes are involved. Grief is as individual as breathing.
Early grief is all encompassing. We sometimes feel we are drowning in grief. Every breath is a struggle. Sleep is our reprieve.
Then miraculously and often unnoticed, each breath is a little easier. We can’t anticipate when this will happen. Yet it does. Our body starts to crave easy air, and we breathe a little deeper.
Our stoic expression feels like it will crack if we speak or try to smile, then one day a friend says the sweetest thing, and our lips turn up slightly, and we realize that feels good.
Our heads have been feeling filled with dark clouds heavy with the rain of tears. Slowly the clouds lighten and then a golden ray of sun peaks through.
As this all progresses, we are not likely to notice, then one day we realize our breathing is easy and we haven’t been noticing the air entering and leaving our bodies.
We stretch, energizing our muscles, feeling the tingling in our hands and feet, knowing we are ready to move.
As we walk outside, we discover that the trees still sway, the flowers still bloom, the birds still sing. Our absence hasn’t been noticed by the world around us.
Our strength begins to return. We realize a desire to experience beauty, conversation, food, movement.
At times our tears break through and we experience great longing, yet those times become further apart.
We reflect on the detailed memories we have of times well spent with our loved ones, of love expressed, of comfort felt.
We slip into our new normal, whatever that is, not forgetting our loved one, cherishing our memories, and discovering the peace and joy in the rest of the moments of our lives.
Grief is never over, just assimilated into our lives granting us the richness that comes from experiencing the depths of our love.
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