  When the grief is new, we tend to think that there is a time when we will be over the loss if we have never experienced it before. We read books, articles, and whatever we can just to determine the timeline for how long we will be feeling a certain way. We try to put a number on it. Will it be a 6 months, 1 year, 2 years, 5? We read about the stages and we try to determine which stage we are in. They say it starts with shock, disbelief, and denial. Then there is depression, anger, and loneliness. After that they say there is a period of readjustment and acceptance of what can no longer be. We feel that if we are in the acceptance stage that maybe the pain is about to go away, and that we are finally coming to that destination.
But after awhile you realize there is no destination. There are no stages. There is no end to this feeling. It comes in cycles and there is no pattern. Almost 9 months after the loss I am still in shock. Sometimes that feeling goes away and the raw and intense reality of what was lost hits like a raging storm.
Then I wake up the next day, and I feel hope for the future, but that could change in one second if I hear a song, see something on T.V., or come across something that brings a certain memory to mind. Then I am in shock again. The feelings come and go, but the sadness is always there. Every happy thing has an element of sadness, and I just have to learn to live with it. I guess I will always cry about this. I’ll cry about the life I wanted that I will never get to have. I’ll cry about the picnics we will miss, the vacations we will not share, the dinners we will not prepare, and anniversaries that will go uncelebrated. I’ll wonder how he would have reacted to seeing our son smile his first smile, and I’ll wonder if he would have cried as he walked our daughter down the aisle.
Memories. Sometimes I get angry that they are there because they stand for things that I remember from the past that I no longer have. Yet at the same time I treasure them so much, for they are all that I have now. There is no cure for what I have, and in the journey through grief, I have learned there is no end. I guess I’ll always wonder, and I’ll always cry. 
