tears.

Grief sucks.

 

I know I've said that before (and it probably won't be the last time I say it), but it does.

 

It literally sucks you back to the pain that is tucked away deep within.

 

Yes, I've made progress, and I feel like the crappy days are further apart, but when the grief hits out of nowhere, it still hurts.

 

And sometimes it might hurt worse because you don't expect it.

 

We went to the Bentonville High School football game last Friday night, because one of Charles' coworkers invited us to watch his son play. It was such a great night!  The weather was the most perfect football weather ever. 

 

It's strange though, out of nowhere in the middle of the 2nd quarter, I found myself fighting tears.  Not because anything was brought up about Jonathan, not because someone asked if we have children (which is always such a fun and awkward question to answer)....there was not an obvious  reason on why I was fighting tears.  But subtly, grief was reminding me that I would never get to be the proud mama at a high school football game (I'd like to think baseball, too). 

 

This is why grief sucks.  Because it comes completely out of nowhere.  The rest of the entire game, I was in a funk, and I was so bummed...fighting tears. 

 

I hate that.  It's the unexpected. 

 

And the crappy thing is that this will just be part of life now.  That sadness will be there through random events like a high school football game.  I have learned to anticipate the milestones like the first day of Kindergarten, or when Jonathan would have turned 16, or when he would have graduated from high school....but I never would have thought I would be crying at a high school football game.

 

Again, that's one of the main reasons why grief sucks.  ....and I'm sure that there will be plenty more reasons why as I continue on this journey. 

 

Although I've made such great progress over the past month or so, when the grief hits, and the pain stings, it still is so tough.  Even though I'm doing better on a day to day basis, I still have those moments that remind me that my arms are empty.  And those moments feel like fresh wounds.