grief is part of the story that is still being written

Some days the grief is so heavy I can feel the elephant sitting on my chest and the cement blocks tied to my arms and legs. The past few days the elephant has grown larger and the cement blocks heavier.

It usually helps when I can identify triggers/reasons/ so this morning as I sat in the glider in my room, Bible and journal in my lap, praying, I asked for wisdom and discernment to be able to recognize anything that might be causing this extra weight.

Slowly I was able to see

• how an issue I thought was resolved a few months ago but Sunday showed itself again as something I may have to confront, has been flustering me.
• today was the last time I will mow this season-something Bill always enjoyed.
• my friend's son, Nick spent his last days with us here on earth this month. I miss his smile and joy. And his delight over the fact that he liked coffee and at the time I couldn't drink it because it tasted nasty. It made him laugh to see me doctor it up with creamer and sugar and still not be able to drink a cup with him.
• our soccer season will be over next Saturday.That part of my family is in my life almost daily from August until November. It is always a shock to my system when season is over.
• it is almost time to put up the Christmas tree, something Bill did pretty much by himself the last few years he was alive.
• some families I love will be facing their first holiday season without a beloved family member.
• Thanksgiving is in three weeks. Bill's favorite holiday.
• Mia Rose and baby boy Markey are due the week of Thanksgiving. I am excited to meet them. But at the same time, it will be bittersweet. They are the first grandbabies to arrive without their proud, doting grandfather here to welcome them. One will be here in Kentucky with me, the other in Siberia, at the ends of the earth.
• in six and a half weeks I will be taking the family vacation to the beach that Bill and I had always wanted to take once the kids were grown with families of their own. Last May (2014) he and I were planning this one.

Tears have upped their game. They fall more freely and frequently so if you happen to see me crying or looking sad, send up a prayer and please don't worry. I am probably in the process of being slapped hard in the face by grief. I am hurting. I am also okay. I have peace, joy, rest, purpose and hope. Good, happy things are coming. I will enjoy them, but I don't expect them to stop the pain. Balance it out a little, yes, but I don't think anything this side of heaven can take it away.