I'm learning that grief is a little bit like chutes and ladders. The process isn't all forward. It's up and down and backwards. Just when you think you've walked ahead, it comes up behind you and grabs you by the throat. There is no mercy. It is crying through an entire church service. It is blinking fast away the tears in the coffee drive-thru because you couldn't switch the radio fast enough.
It's having a conversation about your loved one and thinking the entire time, "I can't believe I can do this with out crying." It's smiling. And laughing. And laughing so hard you start to cry but then can't stop crying.
It's going about a regular day. And then another. And then one where you stay under the covers all day with your iphone.
It's feeding your family sandwiches. For breakfast and lunch and dinner. Because your brain doesn't always kick on. It's also pizza, spaghetti, pizza, spaghetti, cereal, cereal, cereal.
It's one foot in front of the other. Taking all those next steps until you reach a ladder or a slide. And you think you can pick which one you would prefer, but it doesn't work that way.