Thoughts from a writing mom

  It’s nearly been a year since my Mom died. It’s been a quick year, but a hard year. Grief is not something that you can really prepare for or understand. It doesn’t make sense. It isn’t linear, there is no timeline that fits all. It’s unpredictable. I’ll be fine one moment. Better than fine, even. Happy. Then the next as I’m doing something mundane like putting away groceries in my pantry the grief comes at me quick and the next thing I know, I’m sobbing on my kitchen floor. Then I get up and I’m okay again. It’s weird. I can say it honestly now- this past year has been the toughest I have experienced emotionally. It forced what I tried to bury up to the surface and made me look reality in the face. The reality is not pretty and it is not what I want and it will always be something that I wish were different. But it will never be different. I accept that. I do. I accept that, but it’s painful. I didn’t start writing this to talk about the pain though. I wanted to share the ...