Grief is a fickle friend. It quietly arrives leaving you wondering how you'll make it another moment and, quietly still, it moves away-but always with the notion it will make a return-unannounced and uninvited.
I despise this friend.
In 14, sigh, 14 months, I have said hello and good-bye to grief. I've learned some of it's calling cards and try to brace myself for the inevitable sadness that will pursue. Mostly, I manage. In fact, up until today I've navigated through some tough days fairly well. It's the sneaky attacks that make it so much harder. A small comment from Jake during our visit to Daniel's spot; friends dealing with death; changes in the season and missed moments with Daniel; the 19th approaching; it all quietly adds up until I find myself trying to drive through tear dampened eyes. I want to push back and insist grief cannot make a home in my heart, but welcome some on the intrusion because without sadness, I cannot welcome back happiness and find joy in what precious gifts I still have been given.
Today is another day in a long line of days that will inevitably pop up. And I will deal with them. Some days I will make it just fine. Some days, like today, I will cry and feel the ache in my arms and in my heart. I will hold close to me those that are most precious in my life and I will not worry about the outside world. I will be kind to myself tonight because I know the tears are not done falling. I will miss him even more tonight and grieve over lost memories but I will prevail in knowing I have forever and ever and ever with him eventually.