Grief hits you whenever it damn well pleases.

 My best friend died two and a half years ago of bacterial meningitis.  She was in England at the time studying to get her PHD.  At that point, I had known her for over 20 years of my life.

 I would like to think I am doing ok. I know I can’t forever be in a state of mourning, she would be soooo mad! I got a text today while I was at work saying there was a book published dedicated to her.  I’m thinking, you know, the dedication is to her. Nope, it is the whole book that was dedicated to her. And my heart stopped when I saw her picture was on the cover.

 It is a beautiful tribute to a beautiful person. (Although I hear her in my head sighing over the picture)

 I became incredibly sad. Grief can still hit like a tidal wave, and I am not a good swimmer.  I think of the quote ‘time heals all wounds’ and I want to go yell at that person. Time can also rip open those healed wounds.

Grief is a strange thing.  No one person grieves the same way, and time can vary. It has to be the worse feeling; all you want is some normalcy and there is no definite ‘normal grieving’. What is a person supposed to do?

 You could sleep.  You can talk about it. You can cry. You could stare into space. You can be sad.  You can be mad.  You can blast music really loud and let the bass soothe you. You can be or do anything you damn well please because grief is… just there.

And then… it’s gone.


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