Cuddling up with my Charles memories

It still hits. Those grief lightning bolts of loss since Charles’ suicide. They are different 3.5 years later, however.

When it first happened, I could not escape those unrelenting waves of grief. I lost one third of my hair, screamed at the walls, blamed the carpet, broke out in hives, wrote two blogs a day to manage the hurt, and sank to the floor in sobbing wails of despair and loss.

The grief has softened into something like a vignette around a picture.

No longer do I run from my grief but towards it.

When it hits, I embrace it … Read more...