Dennis said that one day, you’ll just wake up and realize you’re dealing with it better.
I thought I’d hit that day months ago. I thought the eulogy I delivered had helped me grieve. When Mom and Chanel talked about dreams and memories of Dad, I felt I’d moved passed that.
But all it took was a couple of glasses of wine and the death of a fictional character on a stupid TV show (albeit this was during an emotional 24 hours when I unexpectedly saw my once best friend, and after I received word about… well, driving to work). All it took was the blank dead eyes of some barely engaging spoiled brat on a TV show. No, not just the eyes, but the realization that a life had reached its end, no matter how badly you may hope the reverse.
I’m not sure Dennis is right. I think it will always be there, just below the surface. On days when you desperately want to share, when you desperately need to talk to someone who’s no longer there, you’ll discover the grief is just as strong as it was the day it happened, and you’ll just bawl.