Thinking About Living Each Day in Grief

"Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief." C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

The most spiritual moment I shared on Sunday was with an older man in my Church who over the years has become a good friend. When his brother passed away three days after my Joe did, our bond grew even stronger. With each passing month I know that three days after "my day" it would be "his day". This week after service, we shared a warm embrace and a simple sentence about this week being six months. As my pain grows, I keep going back to that gentle moment.

There is something indescribable about the strong need inside of me to mark this time and something comforting to my spirit about having someone else on the same path.

When I read the quote from C.S. Lewis with which I started this blog, I nodded like a bobblehead on a seesaw. It just felt true. I couldn't possibly count the number of times during my day when I think about the grief I am living in and it's not just on these monthiversaries or special days. I recognize the many emotions that are birthed daily from this grief - loneliness, jealousy, anger, confusion. I feel the many challenges that my grief brings - clouded thoughts, less freedom, more exhaustion paired with less sleep, random tears. But I am also brought back to the happy moments that are the roots of this grief - 

~memorable trips to London, Boston, Florida, South Carolina, Washington, DC and many places in between

~a beautiful wedding at a day camp in Monroe Township complete with family and friends, canoes, foosball, a good Greg Dulli track, an adorable ring bearer and the cutest flower girl ever, the blob, a water slide, a meaningful service performed by a good friend, line dancing, a lollipop cake, a beautiful, decorated rental car, and a photo with our Mets towel

~countless meals shared together at great and not-so-great places, some still going strong, some sadly closed down - Hot Wok Cafe, Bell's Tavern, Cranbury Pizza, Mexican Village, Conte's, Mediterra, Teresa's, The Carousel Diner, Tavern on the Lake, Old Man Rafferty's, Jester's, Tumulty's Pub, Gay Hussar, Marcello's, The Cranbury Inn, Parker's Restaurant (& Parker's Bar for the Boston Creme Pie)...wow, this could be a whole separate post!

~a long house hunt and the moment we knew we had found the place where we wanted to start our family

~many, many, many Mets games

~many, many, many Greg Dulli shows

~the moment we found out we were expecting and the birth that brought us each tears of happiness, followed by the many moments of his first year when we gushed with pride, fell down exhausted, and laughed til our eyes filled with tears

~the fact that I could go on and on and on and on with happy moments.

The truth is that I wouldn't be feeling this grief in quite the same way if not for all of these very happy things. I will try to remember that as I move through this especially difficult week.

In less than 5 hours the clock will pass by 6 months. Three days from then my friend Bob will have his own day of marking time in grief. Each day brings a new challenge and I pray only for the strength to live the best I can through the shadows and reflections of my grief. I have faith that someday I will be a little less lonely, a little less jealous, a little less angry and a little less confused. And, oh yes, hopefully a little less exhausted too.