Today is a beautiful, mild, sunny fall day, but I woke up feeling lousy - a bad pain flare, and my pollen allergies acting up. While getting organized for the day, I took a bag of trash out to the garage and greeted the garage critters (Blackie, Smokey & Possum - don't know where Trudie and Miss Kitty were). Looking out at the back yard, I decided to walk out to our cemetery, which is at the edge of our property under a dogwood tree. Buster, Bessie Lou, and Mom are buried there. Mom's veteran's memorial plaque was still in place, but I had the most horrible feeling that she isn't there any more.
Last week I had a conversation with one of my work buddies, Alicia, about grief. Apparently Alicia's roommate can't understand why Alicia still grieves the loss of her parents, whopassed away a long time ago. He thinks she should just let go of it. I thought the same thing in the past, but now I know I was wrong. I told Alicia, "I don't think the grief ever ends."