No Love -- No Grief, No Tears
My pictures don't match my blogs most of the time. They are random and mostly of Chandler because that particular picture makes me happy at that particular moment.
One moment I'm laughing with a friend on the phone about some goofy thing, and ten minutes later, I'm curled up in a ball on the couch sobbing. Monday I get through the day with a few tears and some moments of sadness. Tuesday there are moments I can barely move, and the depth of sadness defies description. Wednesday I have a day that seems almost normal except for the constant heaviness in my chest. It physically hurts. Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and so on are a crap shoot.
I remind myself to be thankful for this twisting-my-heart-out grief. Without love, there is no grief, no tears. Today my eyes are heavy from pouring so many tears. It has to hurt this much because I loved him so much. It makes sense. It's normal. So why do I, why do we, find ourselves surprised at all the deep contours of grief?
These past weeks, I've read a lot of definitions of grief. For me, grief is love that longs to "be with" again. Tonight I watched Chandler's memorial video again and cried out, "I just want to be with him!"
How can there be more tears? But there are.
Much love. Much grief. Many tears.