Grief is retracing the steps of this time last year.
That year is almost over and then it will be another year, as that particular day ticks over.
Utterly unfathomable in its ridiculousness.
A whole year without them? It’s preposterous.
That a person so vibrant, so full of life and so mindful and caring of others is no longer here is beyond reason. In amongst this year’s illnesses, birthday celebrations, small daily triumphs, even a pandemic, there is always grief.
I would like to say it gets easier, and yes, the raw, visceral grief of losing a sibling lessens its grip, but it is pushed deeper within and takes up residence.
I know the paintings he liked in my house, the coffee pot we had our last cup from, the table we sat at this time last year. I remember the plans we shared and were excited about and our last hug and farewell, although I didn’t know it then. The jokes, the laughing.
I miss him and I don’t think that will ever end.
How could it when we shared so many experiences no child or partner will ever share.
It has been a long and painful year since that day, and there will be many more to come. But we will smile when we talk about him, and laugh when we share stories and anecdotes. And that is how we will get through the next year.