I talk about it. I write about it. I am surprised when people who are close to me don't understand that grieving doesn't stop. They don't understand that it is always one of the layers of who I am. Hello. I'm writing it again. My daughter (who is 38) did a very good job of supporting me when my husband died. Then, most sadly, her best friend was killed by cancer. Now she understands. She knows that no one will ever replace him. She knows that things will happen in her life that she will want to share with him and she is heartbroken that she can't. She looks at her daughter and thinks of how she wanted - and he wanted - to be there as little Gwendy learned everything new thing. Gwendy will only know him through stories and pictures.
I didn't start with this in mind - is it possible if you haven't experienced death that matters yourself you cannot understand? I hope not.
I wrote in a previous post about my good friend who I sat down and asked to stop saying "We create our own reality." and "Everything is all right," because in my life that makes me sad. I didn't create my own reality. If my husband could create his own reality he would have beat cancer rather than die from it. With Artie dead nothing is ALL right. It can be partly right but never ALL right. I felt good that she respected what I said and changed her behavior.
Then, one friend went home and I was joined on this lovely in many ways trip, by another. We were sitting in a restaurant having a delightfully sinful dinner of hot chocolate and pastry. It had been a long day of touring and I was tired. If I wasn't I might not have jumped at her quite so strongly. This lovely older man sat down at a piano and began to play. The first song he played was As Time Goes By.