Another Tuesday in the books, another week come and gone. Tuesdays are the new Mondays for me because they bring on the blues. It was a Tuesday when I saw someone for the last time. Now every Tuesday I wake up with a number in my head – the number of weeks since that fateful day. Someday it’ll change. Someday I’ll lose track of the count. There are 52 weeks in a year, and who knows how many years of my life ahead of me. I doubt I can keep track of the weeks. Weeks will turn into months, months into years. And ultimately it would just be an entire lifetime.
And it’s pointless to keep count anyway. It’s not that after so many weeks or months or years the wait will be over – it’s not a countdown. The weight of all the “never”s will not change. Never see, never touch, never feel, never kiss, never hold… regardless of the count, all of it will remain “never”.
Grieving is not a linear process. You don’t always start with denial. You don’t always end up at acceptance and stay there. You keep going back and forth. I have reached acceptance but on certain days I have to work hard to hold on to it. It’s not that I get reminded of something. I don’t need reminders, he is always front and center in mind. His toothbrush, his razor, the change he emptied from his pockets – everything is where he left them. These things are not reminders, they make me smile. But on certain days I just want to tell him something and watch him laugh. That is when the weight of all those “never”s comes crashing down on me and I must muster all my strength to hold on to the acceptance with my dear life.
This is not intended to be a sad post. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. I have always said that I am too vain to ever expose my weaknesses – they aren’t flattering. So this is not me crying and asking for sympathy. This is not some sort of outburst of emotion. This is not an act of impulse. This is just a reflection, an objective look at the process of coping with a loss. I acknowledge all feelings and emotions the same way. This is an acknowledgement that I do have moments of weakness. I also handle all feelings and emotions the same way. So I let myself feel weak just as I let myself feel happy; and if I’m not always happy, I’m not always weak either. Acceptance, in a way, is only a matter of finding the balance between the two. The day there is no weakness left is the day you have finally moved on.