Grief Work

Six months ago today, I held Jim’s last heart beat. I could feel him leave his body.

I cried myself to sleep last night, angry at how my once healthy, handsome husband could die of cancer much too young.

This morning for an annual medical visit, I had to check this box. It sucks to sit in this waiting room right now.

They say that grief is like a house with many rooms. The rooms are memories, future dreams, and habits. The grieving have to go through every one of those rooms & grieve the loss. Only after that can one’s life move forward desensitizing and turning those painful memories to grateful ones. Of course after time some undiscovered rooms pop up but not as frequently. That’s what they call grief work.

It seems right, like how I cried when Jim’s car first came home but now it gives me comfort to drive it.