I always thought it was odd when I would hear people say “they need to learn how to grieve” or “when they figure out how to grieve…” I always just kind of assumed grieving would look like uncontrollable sobbing in the fetal position. Sadly, I now know that is not the only option.
August was a rough month. My husband’s grandfather, known as Pa-paw in these parts, passed away quietly. The graveside service was beautiful in a heart wrenching way.
I cried for Pa-paw’s wife for losing her husband. I cried for Aaron for losing his granddad. I cried for me that I didn’t get to know him better. I cried for the respect people on the road displayed as we followed the hearse, namely a little girl and her mom that placed their hands over their hearts. I cried when the bugle played. I cried as the doves flew away.
Roughly two weeks after saying bye to Pa-paw, Rainie was overcome with a sudden malady that sent her to the Emergency Vet. I fit in a quick good bye to her as she got into the car for what would be her last ride. Occasionally the void that she left behind is too much to ignore and I crave being interrupted by an affectionately warm snout, followed by a sleek, fur coated, tripping hazard.
The morning following Rainie’s trauma I got a call from an ex-coworker friend letting me know that another one of my ex-coworkers had passed the night before. He was probably my closest friend from that job. I knew how much he meant to me and could only imagine how much he meant to his family. At the receiving of friends his wife mentioned hearing about me and how it was nice to meet someone she’d heard him talk about. I almost couldn’t take it. It was like hearing her say that made our friendship official. We were more than co-workers in his eyes too. I was allowed to be as sad as I needed to be.
Some of the tears I shed for Steve showed up at obvious moments, but mostly I was caught off guard by some memory or thought of his family I wasn’t fully aware of having. It has been 2 months now and I still find myself with catches in my chest when I think I see his car or come across some unimportant email we exchanged.