Capture Your Grief - Day 31 - Sunset Reflection

Again we've come to the end of the month of October, and the end of these daily post.  I appreciate all those who took the time to read them, or share them with someone you know who has had a loss.  I hope they help others to remember that grief doesn't magically end, and gives you some insight or ability to better deal with others in your life in a similar situation.

Reflecting back, I'm in such a different place this year than last.  Doesn't mean that I don't miss her, and this new pregnancy is drudging up all kinds of feelings and stresses and worries.  It's not quite the raw and searing pain it was before, at least it's not that way as often.  The story of grief being like waves, has really held true for me.  At first they are one on top of each other and they are 90 feet high, and over time they get more spaced out, and eventually aren't as big.  Though from time to time a massive one will still come along and sweep you under for a little while.

A year both has both been a blessing and a curse. The grief and longing usually isn't as intense, but it's also depressing, in that I get ever further away from her.  I can't see her as clearly in my mind anymore, and our pictures weren't taken right away, and little details had already begun to fade.  Her blanket, I noticed as I folded it up to box up the other night, doesn't smell like her at all anymore.  It's been more than a year since I held her, and I suspect it will be many, many more years till I see her again.  The entire road so often feels bitter or sweet.  And sometimes it's both at the same time.

Gary snapped me a sunset photo from the farm tonight.