Dear Mr. G

You have a way of sneaking back into my everyday when I am just fine. Really, really, fine. It irritates me and corrupts my joyful mood, with a thump. (Ask Audrey and Noah, they are my unlucky, innocent bystanders.) You have a way of doing that. I am growing to resent your sneaky ways. I used to be thankful in the early days for the relief from you. I’d have a few consecutive days where I realized that you were not a constant and I smiled at this. I could operate and be “un-grief-like”; I’d go so far as to say, downright chipper.

This process of shedding you unconsciously came about at it’s own pace. No amount of willing it would do any good; I learnt this lesson early on. I felt triumphant when I did more than just muddle my way through the conversation that makes most people stare at the floor when you answer “No, I’m not married…(long pause)…I’m widowed" I filled the silence and made it okay that they asked an innocent question.

Today…
You crept back in and I’m sick of you. I’m sick of your little reminders that make me feel alone when I am not. I tire of the surprise visits and the popping in when I’m doing regular mom stuff. Carving pumpkins, making dinner, mediating the relentless bickering of children, you know…regular everyday things. Why do you need to pinch me just to hang out for the afternoon and leave that bitter, ripped off taste in my mouth? Enough already.

I don’t need any reminders that you are still here. I was there, remember? Grief has no finish line. Jerk. I’m rebuilding my life and I don’t need to feel thankful that you’re not my everyday anymore. Just give it a rest and let me nudge myself forward when I want to.

Got that??
Beat it grief.

I didn't need you today, come back some other day if you must.

Yours truly,
Leslie

Ps. Sorry I called you a jerk.