I’m not going to lie, this weekend was rough.  On Sunday, which would have been Chuck’s 70th birthday, there were tears, lots of tears. My morning was full.  I went to mass twice because there were two masses for Chuck at two different churches, one at 9:00 and one at 11:00. I don’t share this to suggest that I am so very holy, but rather to say that being present at both masses was in a way a birthday gift to Chuck – a way to honor him. Church is still difficult for me because it was something we did together.  I don’t think I have made it through one mass yet without a few silent tears.

These were followed by a visit to the cemetery with flowers and a small birthday balloon to mark the special day. It was hot and windy, so getting the flowers and balloon in place took a little ingenuity and a great suggestion from my daughter. I brought my collapsible stool, sat at the grave for a while, and talked to Chuck, letting him know what was on my heart, but then it got really warm, and I retreated to my car.  I love him, but this fair-skinned woman forgot to put on sunscreen.

We’ve heard the “firsts” after losing a loved one are really hard, and they are, no doubt about it.  I can’t imagine it getting any easier, but they say that it does. Next week marks eight months since Chuck passed, and I have learned more than I ever wanted to know about grief.  Grief has stages, but they are not linear; they are more like a spiral staircase to nowhere.

This weekend, I felt thrown back into the gut-wrenching stage when the initial shock wore off, and I realized that Chuck was really gone. It is more than sadness and tears.  It is a physical reaction that makes your stomach twist and turn, and your chest feel heavy through the sobbing, but that’s okay. It must have been what I needed, and I let myself feel all the feels. I am slowly learning that grief isn’t something to get through; it is something I am going to have to learn to let walk beside me.