timelines and grief

Recently I was talking to a friend about how crazy it is that losing someone you love, 5 years in her case and 3 in mine, can feel like a life time, yesterday and as if it can't be real and never happened-all at the same time.

grief has it's own timeline

Grief changed the timeline. LWB (life with Bill) LWOB (life without Bill).

Today was KCU's first football game of the 2017 season. 

It is only appropriate that this picture was the first thing that showed up when I opened FB while I sat in the stands waiting for the game to begin. Gulp. 

best guess? 2012 KCU home football game

During the second half of today's game someone came and sat next to me and this happened.

"It's been almost three years exactly hasn't it? What was the date?" 

"Yes. Tuesday, the 29th...except it happened on a Friday, so yesterday..." 

"Yes, I know. I was just thinking about him the other day." and the conversation ended. 

Except it went on in my head. I wanted to explain how my body and mind are confused about this timeline. Was it three years ago yesterday too (Friday)? Will the three year mark be up Tuesday? Or will it flare back up next Friday since he passed on the Friday before Labor Day? 

Grief has it's own timeline and it doesn't share the details.

I recognized a KCU grad when I made a bathroom trip at half time. I didn't speak to him because I was afraid he would want to talk about Bill. After the game we chatted and I filled him in on where the kids and their families are. He said; "It's lonely around here with all the Bondurant's gone." I didn't trust myself to respond verbally so I just nodded. Because I agree.

But what was going through my mind was an evolving ugly mess. It went from:

"Yes, it is."

"I agree totally."

"Duh, ya think so?"

"You should try being me."

"Did you have to say that?"

"Why did you have to say that? I don't need to be reminded."

ending with

"I AM STILL HERE! Not ALL of the Bondurant's are gone. I. AM. HERE."

As I walked to my car tears started along with negative thoughts...

"see, you don't matter..."

I know that grief has it's own timeline and I am simply in the middle of a not so pleasant part of it, so I walked that nonsense out of my head, literally, I walked a mile. Because I know I do matter. I grabbed kleenex so I could cry while I walked if I needed to because I am far enough down this road that I'm not so worried about hiding them. As long as it is dusk and they can't easily be seen, or from the safety of this side of the computer screen.

Grief has it's own timeline. I can't explain where I am on it, or why I act/react the way I do because I don't understand it myself. I just know it keeps changing. And remaining the same. Easing. Intensifying. All at the same time.