All things will pass

While shopping today I bumped into someone who'd sadly just lost their husband - I saw in her, myself ten months ago.  The moment I lost Christine I couldn’t sleep, I was scared and nothing made sense - people, places, even memories.  I needed help and thankfully I asked for it.

You initially just carry on with life, you shop, you wash - you do these things automatically, a bit like muscle memory.  You never forget how to ride a bike – you’ve done it so often you don’t need to engage with it.

As the months pass, you fight and search for some normality but living is hard without that person by your side. As you lie awake in the 'small hours' of the morning or when you’re driving, the memories of those desperate days of last year flood in. 

But friends and family reach out for you, they lift you up and breathe life into you – they show you that there is still beauty and joy to be found in your life.  It’s not just the living who reach for you - it’s Christine, it’s something else. 

You begin to realise that you can do this, and that you don't want to vegetate in desperate sadness.  How would giving up honour Christine – how can you remember that person with joy and gratitude, how can you appreciate what you have if you are bitter and sad all the time.

The potholes of grief still open up and I walk into them.  But there is a realisation that the bad days don’t last forever and the sun will rise tomorrow on a new day and ‘All things will pass'.