I have often been told that “the waiting” is the hardest part of anything worth while. I am not the most patient person in the world. I like periods at the end of my sentences. I like reading the last chapter of the book to see how the story ends. I like knowing more than questioning.
I am the same way with grief. I keep waiting for the period at the end of grief. I keep waiting for the last chapter to be written so can look ahead and see how it ends.
I keep waiting.
Tears come in ripples now, instead of waves… but that does not mean my grief is any less than the day we lost her. It just means that I smile more when I think of her instead of having the ugly cry that accompanied her memories.
Death makes heaven more real to those who have lost a loved one. I almost look forward to dying now, in a weird way. Not because I do not love every aspect of my life down here..
But because I cannot wait to be up there and see her again.
That is, by far, the hardest “wait” …