Grief is U-G-L-Y

Grief is a sneaky bitch. I'll be minding my own business and there it is staring at me, taking my breath away and threatening to bring me to my knees. It's unfair and does not discriminate. It does not care where I am or whose company I keep. It manifests in so many unpredictable ways it's impossible to brace yourself fully. I've gotten really good at crying publicly without apology. I like to tell people I am going to cry before I do it so they can brace themselves, fully.

I've read the seven, well-defined, linear stages of grief. My personality continues to partner with my new normal and they like to check things off of lists. The numbers are irrelevant because there is no order. Grief is messy. It comes in waves.

​             I will not hide my grief as I did not hide my love. {Lindsey M. Henke}

I hold strong to this affirmation. I will not hide because hiding indicates fear or shame. Grief is not something to solve but incorporate into your new path as it is life long. Just as my love for my child. Whoever said 'time heals all wounds' did not lose their child. It will scar, the pain lessens but it will not heal and putting such an expectation upon yourself is unnecessary. Despite the challenge, I give myself permission to grieve. I let it out and name it. 
 
The waves come less frequently as I continue to embrace my grief. My choice to grieve breeds my choice to love. My daughter gave me the gift of knowing a true, pure and fierce love. I will choose to make it tangible in that I continue to love and respect myself. I choose to love and encourage a whole marriage. I choose to love when it is difficult.

So hug someone. And also sorry Mom for the swear word, it was warranted.

​Rest easy Pipsqueak.