I’m in the second year of grieving. He died a year and two weeks ago. I was relieved for the anniversary to be over, relieved to have so many firsts behind me. But so far, the second year is not easier. If anything, it’s harder because I can’t help feeling like others are expecting it to get easier. Last year I was still so numb. This year, as my brain recovers I remember anew what an amazing man he was and I can’t believe he didn’t come home that night. I can’t believe he isn’t raising Zoya with me. I can’t believe he will never return to this earth.
Many people told me their second year was the hardest. But each story is different and I hoped that wouldn’t be so. I still hope that won’t be my story. I hoped if I grieved enough, felt enough, worked enough that somehow I’d be able to relax this year. But maybe the second year isn’t worse because you avoided pain the first year. Maybe it’s worse because you let your guard down and become distracts. Or maybe it’s just harder.
It is harder, and I don’t know why. I don’t know if it is because the shock is still wearing off, or if I’m letting go of my vigilant truth seeking, or if I’m spending too much time mind numbing, or if it’s just the long term projection of my current life sinking in as my rest of my life reality.
I remind myself that I won’t be a single parent to a toddler for the rest of my life. But it is also true that I will never be living life with my prince again. It’s not all permanent, but some of it is.
Most of those things two paragraphs above, I cannot change. But I can stop the mind numbing distraction activity. I can put down my phone, pick up my Bible, my journal, and my books, and report back once I’ve set my mind back on all the truths, not just the painful evil truths, but the eternal good truths as well.