Denial. Anger. Depression. Bargaining. Acceptance.
The five steps of grief. Usually people talk about them, or hand out brochures on them when someone has passed away and often we expect people to go through them in order (by the way, I have no idea what that order is). But what about all the little moments in between? What about when that person is still alive, but no longer in your life? What about that first laugh that comes after losing someone, how a person will have their head tilted back, cracking up and then stop. They catch themselves, realize they are supposed to be sad! People are going to think they are moving on, and oh so healthy and then they will stop caring, and wait people who are grieving should not laugh. Guilt.
What about the morning time, when they groggily roll over, hit snooze, sleep some more. Typical morning, routine. Hear the alarm again, and just like every morning, hit snooze. In between sleep and reality. Open eyes and for a moment, forgetting, until it comes. Shock.
How about the moment of quiet sadness, months later. It hits when they are least expecting: in a car with rap music playing and friends dancing, or while grocery shopping. It is in the pit of your stomach and causes them to stare at a can of corn for far too long. It is that still quiet voice that whispers "i miss you". Loneliness.
And then there are the more intense moments, usually in private, where no one can see the mascara running down and onto the arms of the sweatshirt. They come full force, knocking to the ground it's victim, pushing them to the floor. Sobs, heaving, questioning..."why God?". Resignation.
Far more than these to get to the final one. The one where you realize that all those clichés you heard and hated, came true. Time healed this wound. You are happy again. You are stronger and no it did not kill you. The one where you can look at a picture, read a note or have coffee with a particular person and be ok, really. Even smile a little, then go back to folding laundry or whatever it was you were doing.
Healing.