Up and down...

People talk about grief as a roller-coaster. They're right. Theoretically, time heals all wounds. Realistically, it seems to open them up before beginning the healing process. Rather than feeling better as time moves on and on further away from the date we lost Nanny, most days I feel progressively worse. The tiniest of images or memories will trigger the opening of a gaping hole in my chest, forcing a seemingly unending stream of pain to burst forth. Okay, so maybe this sounds more than slightly melodramatic, but it's honest. Your appetite goes up and down. Some days you don't sleep at all, and other days you don't wake up. Your sex drive comes and goes, which makes being in a relationship interesting. Sometimes you want to talk, others you cherish the presence and pervasiveness of the silence. One moment, you're crying. The next, you have no tears left.

I miss her more and more each day, sometimes to the point of it being unbearable. Despite how thankful I am for the financial state in which her gift has left me, I look at the numbers, the decreased debt I have now and things don't add up. How is this significantly insignificant amount supposed to measure up to the phone conversations, the hugs, the food, the laughs, the late night "I'm a little drunk and I need you to be on the phone with me until I sober up" conversations.

I'm really ready for this semester to be finished, to have time to rest and reflect, to listen, sit, and sleep. To spend some time with those I love most. To enjoy chocolate, Scotch, and corny holiday and romantic comedy movies. To get the sporadic, occasional Zipcar and go for a drive. Meanwhile, it's time for some reading and listening to movie scores. Life will get better, just need to believe it.