Grief is a roller coaster. It has its ups and downs, wobbly bits, sharp fast corners and stomach-dropping vomit inducing speeds. And then at times, it is peaceful and quiet, calm even. You can't predict what will happen next, unfortunately, as grief is a roller coaster that doesn't have a set course. It goes in any which way it wants.
Right now I feel I am on the calm tracks of my grief roller coaster. It could change tomorrow, it could change in a week, but right now, I am OK.
Right around the 6 month mark is when some grieving widows/widowers say they start to feel they are getting a handle on their grief. I have noticed that recently when I cry, my tears are different. They're more sad. But with that sadness comes a realization that this life is real, and I can't hide from it anymore. We're about 5 months in now, short a couple days, and it has really only been recently that I have noticed this change.
Is it resignation? Have I finally come to terms with Barry's death? Resignation maybe. The fact that I know this is it, that I can't change anything, and this is the life I have been given. But I still haven't come to terms with it. Yes, I know he is dead. I am reminded of that every single time I glance at my dresser and see an Oak box sitting upon it, with his name engraved into it. I feel like a conundrum really, despite the fact that I can sense a change in me.
Several months ago I wrote that the fog was lifting. I was wrong, very very wrong. I think at that time, what was lifting was the shock and numbness of it all. I have still walked around in a fog for the past 5 months. Going about life as normal, functioning as I should, but really being like a robot and going through the motions because that was all I knew how to do to get through the day. I don't know what triggered this recent change in me, but I am happy for it.
The fog is lifting, but there are still clouds in the sky. Occasionally a ray of sunshine will filter through.