As I face my return to work, I can't help but reflect on the past few weeks. Am I any further ahead? Have I paid my grief enough attention to claim that "time heals"? Time heals ... hogwash!
I am coming to the conclusion that time itself does not heal, it is what I do with this time that makes a difference. I can have the worst day, arguing with my grief then go out and play a game of ball hockey and come away happier. I can have capitulated to my tears then have a great chat with a friend about their life and come away feeling like I belong. I can have a fretful night, my loneliness hogging the bed then go out for a long walk and come away feeling refreshed, ready to face the day.
As I move through this journey, I acknowledge that there are experiences that I must go through in order to move myself from being in pain to living with more integrity and being happier. I have been consumed by my grief for the past year and in doing so have developed certain habits that keep me walking with my grief. These habits need to be changed, are being changed.
Indeed, time does not heal it simply passes. I have made a place in my life for Bill's death and all this entails; it is time to put this event in its place. Bill is with me forever, his death cannot, will not be the sum of our relationship.
I like how well you thought this out and then expressed it. It's beginning to fall into place, isn't it?
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