Grief is a strange bedfellow


This grieving process is very foreign to me. It’s been so long since someone close to me died that I truly don’t remember much about the ensuing days after the initial shock.  So I am finding it kind of fascinating to see when it hits me. Within the first two weeks between learning of her death and the memorial brunch, just talking about her had me in tears. Yet, the very day after the brunch when we took her dad to place her ashes with her mom’s I was largely fine.

Since then I find I can talk about her without issue. I see her chair & chest of drawers and pictures of her and books and all the other things I brought home from her house every day.

I anticipate that there are some things that will make me choke up – certain events we used to share for instance that will be hard to handle the first time they come around and she is not there. Lord knows if I’ll ever be able to go to T’s Cafe again given the way I sobbed just driving past the damn place the day of the brunch!! But those are known triggers.

Then one morning last week as I drove in to work, with a song on the radio that had nothing to do with her at all and with no reason whatsoever for her to be on my mind – I started crying. I was quite frankly shocked. I drove on fighting back the tears and just wondering where in the devil that had come from? Was it the rain that was falling perhaps since the last time it had rained was when she died? I have no idea. But I learned that grief will hit you when it wants to hit you and there is not a whole lot that can be done about it.

Just make sure you bring tissues.