Of course grief never goes away. It changes. Just like life after losing a loved one changes. I said to so many people after my divorce and after the death of Dad that things don’t get better, they get different. Grief, it turns out, gets different too.
It changes from the all encompassing heavy feel of sadness to the sense that something is missing to the random moments where it feels like nothing has changed. That random moment is of course always followed by the sobering reality that EVERYTHING has changed and you feel like such an idiot in that brief moment for forgetting how life is so incredibly different than it was before that horrible thing that happened.
Grief these days comes in weird ways, but often it takes its form in worrying. Am I doing enough for my family members? Am I honoring my father’s legacy in the right ways? To I think of him often enough? Am I doing the things he would want me to do? As we deal with the horrible winter in New England that will not let up, I think so often of how he would be dealing with this all, worrying about all of us and complaining with us too. It seems I’ve picked up his traits of worry and watching over my family in the same way he did- something that at times feels like an honor and something I want to do, other times like I can’t do enough and worry more.
It seems grief has become worry, guilt, sadness, anger, and fear all together. I feel the sense of loss and miss him fiercely when I want another creative mind to talk over my life/job angst with. I want another trained Portuguese taste tester to tell me if my kale soup is seasoned properly or not. Mostly, I just want to hear his laugh and see his smile, and for him to tell me everything is going to be okay.