I awoke to see a glorious morning outside my bedroom window. Light fog drifting across the pasture. Fairy wash clinging to seedpods of taller plants. Grass and flowers glistening in their coating of morning dew. Sunrise visible beyond the trees and hills surrounding the pasture. Small clouds glowing with reflected sunlight.
On my way to town I was thanking God for the wonderful morning scenery along the way, and my thoughts turned to Greg. His smile. His touch. His laughter. His everything. My everything.
Tears have been my companion since.
I felt lighthearted for the first morning this week when I got out of bed. I was enjoying the morning’s peace and charm. I wish I knew why pleasant thoughts of Greg hit me so hard. I know I will always love him and miss him, that will be a constant in my life. But this?
How can grief be so inexplicable? I know grief will never go away, that is a given. I am having trouble understanding the suddenness of its arrival in the midst of a morning with so much beauty, a beauty that lifted my spirits more than they were when I first awoke.
Is grief inexplicable? Is its sole intent and purpose to keep me from having happy days, where pleasant thoughts of Greg bring smiles instead of tears? It seems that way to me. Makes me feel as if grief has a personal vendetta against me and desires to keep me in tears instead of smiles for as long as it possibly can.
If this morning is any indicator of how my weekend will be, I have a long three days ahead of me. I will get out and do something somewhere else tomorrow and Sunday. Today I need to mow the yard so driving aimlessly this afternoon isn’t an option I can utilize today as I have so many times this year.
All I can do at the moment is endure and hope for fewer grief-riddled days in the years to come.
I may be sad. I may cry. I must be strong.
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