Stones

 There are days where I'm tiptoeing around grief. I don't want to wake it, to cry, to feel the pain of loss. So, I deliberately don't think. And eventually in the day, feel the pain of guilt. How can I not think about loss? Aren't I supposed to honor those feelings, let them out and go through it? Am I being weak, avoidant? Disloyal to Andrew even?

 Grief can be like a large stone. Some days I don't know where to put it. I'm tired of carrying it front and center. But I don't know where to put it down in my days' landscape, in my internal landscape. I've gotten to the point where I think Andrew would not want me to carry some heavy weight around.. He would want me to live. Separating grief from the memory and love is hard; some days harder than others. Love never dies. I believe that. 

Why does grief vary from a stab to the heart, a dull ache, a stone in the back of my mind, an emptiness inside, a feeling of loss, or even a curtain drawn over a space I will not look at today. I don't know.