Grief is not a nice friend

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.