It’s so curious: one can resist tears and ‘behave’ very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer… and everything collapses. ~Colette
There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. I don’t wake up thinking, “Today is going to be one of those days.” I’m not even sure what sets it off, what sends me to look at the photos again, to read the old posts. Just like I could never leave a skinned knee alone to heal cleanly, I can’t seem to stop poking at this. I guess I just need to check to see how much it still hurts. This is one of those days.
I guess it’s because I have so little of it available. So few moments, so many of which were rushed and anxious and now are fading oh so quickly.
It’s not the debilitating, crushing agony anymore. I’ve managed to climb out of that deepest pit of despair. I can breathe through these moments now.
She was no longer wrestling with the grief, but could sit down with it as a lasting companion and make it a sharer in her thoughts. ~George Eliot
I don’t know when that happened; when I stopped fighting it, when it just became a part of who I am now.
In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on. ~Robert Frost