The grieving process varies and for years I have grieved through words. I have put all the pain and tears that takeover me and leave me lost into words. I write to feel better and it is a concept that some don’t get. In the past, I usually write the post much earlier and have it scheduled. I read it in the weeks following and I grieve. I then wipe off my tears and try to smile at the rainbow.

This year I thought twice about writing this post and that is a rarity. I am not sure what changed. The pain remains. I ache for the past -the missed moments, those special moments we created. My dreams become nightmares shaded with places and people from the past. I wake up trying to shake those images off my mind and to stay away. I give in to insomnia in fear of the images that fill my mind.

Some of the people who think they know me assume that I have issues with death. I don’t. I have accepted that my grandfather is long gone. I accept death as a part of life. My issue is with relearning to live. There are those moments when nothing will fill in the gap like having a conversation with my grandfather. I sit with words dying to get out and messages to be shared with him. The words fill me and then I drown in desperation.

I read this on Explore earlier this week and it sort of helped me to understand my grieving process better.

Happy 84th birthday Mamaiyaa!