five things about my grief

I thought I would share five things that I experience in grief. These are not my top five things. They are just the five that come to my fingertips the quickest. And I am a list person.

I share these because ... well I know it is difficult to imagine. It is difficult to imagine if you haven't experienced a devastating loss. And in my efforts to be transparent in this time of life, I share my grief with you.

1. Nothing that anyone says will make things better. Or easier. In fact, I probably don't remember much of what people have told me these past [almost] 7 months. But I remember the kindness of my family and friends and strangers. I know that it is hard to know what to say. What does matter is that you say something. Anything.

2. I want to talk about Michael. I might cry. It is a strong possibility that I will. But I love to share stories about him. I love to hear your stories about him. I love to hear that his life made an impact on those around him.

3. There is no time table for grief. I cannot snap out of it or give you a mythical deadline for when I will be all better. This grief. Will last forever.

4. Grief feels like I am treading water. And I sometimes dip below the surface. Unable to breathe. The slightest push sends me below.

5. I, at the tender age of 33, have lost my innocence. I have lost the carefree-ness of being able to think about the future. To think about what a year from now will be like. I knew that loss was a possibility. I understood that death happened. I understood that tomorrow was not promised. Or so I thought. In my mind, death is what comes to those that have lived long lives. It does not happen to those in their 40s, or their 30s, or just before their 10th birthday. Because that would be unfair. And life, as I have learned, is anything but fair.