Grief is an interesting monster. One that feels comfortable in the dark or the sunlight. It can rise up to stand as tall as a giant but be light on its feet. Moving so fast you can’t hold on to it, yet still in grief’s shadow. Or the monster can shrink down to sit in your hand, but be so heavy that you have to use both hands to hold it. Its weight making your knees bend, taking all your energy just to stay upright.
I am sad.
I am sad because of the passing of my mom. And I know part of the lingering feeling is that we will have the memorial for her in September, when all the family can be there. A milestone in the grieving process has not happened.
But there have been other milestones that have fed the monster. She passed away just a few days from her birthday and a few weeks before my parents’ 52 anniversary. Life moments that should have been celebrations.
I am sad.
I am sad because death is the end of the story. Even while my mom was in the hospital, there was hope, there was the idea of tomorrow. So many things that were possible with tomorrow. There isn’t now. There is no tomorrow. There is no today. I used to send pictures to “Mom and Dad” on my phone. Now, I send them to just “Dad”.
That’s why I am sad.
The monster attacks without warning. I never know the monster’s size or its intent. I only know that I am sad.
It is all Connected 