Year Three - Grief Is Not Linear

It has been three years without Ben. 

I had no idea how I would be or feel at year three. But it is as if he died just months ago. The pain is still as intense. I miss him.

Every. 

Single. 

Day. 

I have no more answers as to "why" than I did three years ago. I cry every day. There is still no listening to Garth Brooks and I skip over James Taylor's "Sweet Baby James" song when it comes on because, of course, we sang "Sweet Baby Ben". I still can't look at pictures, which makes me feel like I am forgetting so many things about him. I long for him to be at every family event, every holiday gathering, and desperately wish he could meet and hold his two new nephews and niece.

Instances have come up where I feel as if I have been smacked in the face. I recently got on Facebook to see the post about the NHS Class reunion of 2012. Ben was in the video. I wasn't expecting it and it took a couple of days to recover. Dale and I attended a birthday party of one of Ben's favorite football coaches. As soon as I tried to talk to him, I was overcome with emotion because I know how much he means to Ben. One of Ben's friends came to church with his sweet kids and I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. (Knowing we won't get the opportunity to be with Ben and his little ones.)

My faith in God's plan has been challenged too many times to count. I love God, but there are days I'm still angry with Him. (He's let me know He can handle it.)

I've heard people refer to the day a loved one dies as a death day anniversary. I can't wrap my head using the words "death day" and "anniversary" in the same sentence. To me an anniversary is a day to celebrate. The day someone dies is not a day to celebrate. We can't figure out what to do with July 14th. I mostly spend the days leading up to it, wishing I could just skip over it. We have tried doing something in Ben's honor, treating it as if it is just another day by going to work, or staying home and crying. Whatever we have tried, nothing seems to help getting through the day any easier.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to post this, because it sounded a lot like my "Year Two" entry from last year. Unfortunately, it is. Grief is not linear. Grief does not go away. Why would it! Grief is just unexpressed love . . . and my love for Ben will never go away!