“On a scale of . . .”
I’m sure most everyone has heard or read that through the years. Rating customer service. Food quality. A person’s looks. Satisfaction with a product. Pain.
The number of choices on the rating scales vary. I have seen them as low as three and as high as fifteen. Some will utilize columns with headings such as “Very Dissatisfied” to “No Opinion” to “Very Satisfied” and/or “Would Recommend to Friends.”
I thought I would rate my grief for the past week. Using a scale of one to ten, my week overall has been around seven. I have cried several times. I miss Greg constantly. Everything I see or do reminds me of Greg. Yet I have not been in the tight clutches of grief as I have been many times since the first of the year. That is a relief and at the same time a worry.
A worry that grief will crush me again, clutch me in its fist and squeeze until I abandon hope of any better days ahead. I hope and pray that doesn’t happen, even though I am sure that I am not free of further onslaughts of grief. This is a respite that may last the rest of the month or the rest of the year, or maybe just until tomorrow morning.
How will I deal with another attack by grief? I do not know. Some days a pleasant mood is so fragile that grief requires little effort to send me reeling. Other days, grief’s attacks may bring tears, but I am strong enough to endure them without sorrow lingering for several hours or days.
Right now, I would rate my day as a six. I have cried several times, wished Greg was still at my side so we could ride around wherever struck our fancy, and sadness is the footing my mood is built upon.
I will visit Greg’s grave when the sun is down a little farther, thank God for the wildflowers blooming in the pasture and the birds singing in nearby trees, and talk to Greg about my day. Yes, I will probably cry, hopefully not much, but I will strive to keep grief at bay so it does not color my night with sadness.
I am strong enough to survive whatever grief throws at me.
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