Recently, it occurred to me that maybe my grief had “leveled.” I think about Murdock every day, more times than I can count. Those memories still bring tears with the smiles; and I still feel the emptiness that his departure left behind. But it had been awhile since I felt that gut punch when the loss hits anew, or had those moments of deep sorrow realizing that I (still) don’t know how to live without my soulmate. Maybe I had crossed into the familiarity of how life would be from now on, without him.
A few days later, I was in the grocery store and passed the dog treats. I felt the air sucked out of me and the tears cascade. I had to step into an aisle to catch my breath and try to collect myself. The thought that I have thought a million times in the last nearly three and a half years struck me as if it were the first realization – Murdock is not here, and I am. And this is life now. And it is still not at all familiar.
Grief is the most difficult of paths to walk. It is all-consuming, but yet, life, including the life you still have to live, goes on. You are given the weight of loss to carry; and the heaviness of that load and your strength to carry it, changes day by day, sometimes minute by minute. You walk and walk, never knowing what is ahead or how long or arduous the path will be. You never trained for this journey. It is all unknown, and you are unprepared.
The unknown is what makes grief exhausting. The ups and downs – the feeling “leveled” one day and gut punched the next. At this point, three years in, I should be stronger, more steady, more conditioned.
But there is no “should” with grief. Of everything I have learned through grieving, that lesson has been the most life-changing. Years ago, if I had seen someone crying in the grocery store, and she shared that she had lost her soulmate the day before, or the week before, I would have cried right along with her. If she told me it was three years ago, I would have had pause. Shouldn’t she be over it? The answer is no – there is no “should,” there is no “over it.” Grief does not have a clock or a calendar or a map.
And that’s why we have to give grace – to others (we don’t know what they are carrying) and especially to ourselves (sometimes I don’t even know what I am carrying). This is a tough journey – it is lonely, it is unpredictable, it is exhausting, it is unending.
Through all of the ups and downs, through the moments that make me smile and the times that the tears don’t stop, I know it is all because of Murdock. Yes, I have to travel this difficult grief journey, with all of its unpredictability, because my best friend is no longer here. But I have the strength to endure because I had the great fortune to experience profound love.
Love is the why – but it is also the how.
