I’ve learned that grief is not a straight line. It sort of cycles, and while it will never be as bad as that first week, things do get better then they get worse again. I think the spirals do eventually get fewer and far between. I’ve learned that the days preceding an anniversary are worse than the actual day. I will get restless (read cranky or irritable or miserable or sad or down) and then realize that, oh, it’s because next week is his birthday or our anniversary (would have been 10 this year – that was a yucky one) or whatever it happens to be, and then it gets a little better because I give myself the ok to wallow in it for a while, then I feel like God says ok, now let’s get on with it and He pulls me out. And then sunshine. Till the next time round.
I miss him in so many ways.