Here is the thing about grief: You are going through your day, working, taking the dog for a walk, deciding on whether to eat salad or a burger for lunch. Then a song, a memory or a smell hits you. It is not a cataclysmic thing whereby you fall to your knees in pain. It is rather this thing inside that you know might consume you should you let it. So, there are sporadic tears, very silently and quietly present as you go about your day. You feel you must hide these tears, that enough time has passed for the perfunctory time of grief. You ride out the wave and wake for the reprieve. It will come in it’s own time, that reprieve.
