After four years, there are days, most days now, that the grief sits there in the background and just, is. It’s not loud of intrusive or front and center. It just is there. After four years, I’ve gotten used to that actually. I’ve learned to live with it even. I wish it wasn’t there, but it is, and I’ve started to find out what life looks like with it there. Not like there’s a choice anyways, it’s not like I’m going to wake up tomorrow and not be conscious that my son is gone.
After four years though, there are days like today. Still days like today. Days that it doesn’t just sit there. Days that the hurting isn’t just in the background. After four years there are still days like today that I have to keep fighting all day when the grief and the realization of what is real sweeps over me throughout the day. Like waves that appear from nowhere, they hit. I’m not sure why, there’s no reason why today should be like this. It just is.
After four years I’ve come to understand that days like this just are. I may wake up tomorrow and the grief is back in it’s usual place, quietly residing and just there. Or I may wake up and not know how to get out of bed again. But I know I will get up, as always. After fours years, I have come to know that I just have to take what comes, as it is. It’s not like there’s a choice, anyways.