Cycles of Grief

Last week sucked both Mom and me down into a vortex. Tuesday, three months had passed since Jolene's death.

Sunday, we moved the last of Jolene's things into our already-crowded apartment. We couldn't (and still can't) move without seeing the tangible, undeniable signs of loss. Her china cabinet stares us in the face in our living room and we push past her boxes in the hall. By Friday, we had both reached a breaking point and unfortunately took it out on each other.

Thank God for Mom. We were able to talk about what and why we hurt, and work past the hurtful things we had said to each other.

I've prayed for courage and comfort, peace and strength, patience and endurance. God gives me just enough to get through each day. Grief cycles through me, and this last 10 days or so have taken us back down.

Last night Mom and I pulled out a deck of cards and played Gin Rummy. We haven't played since May 25th; we usually play several times a week. May 25th, Memorial Day Sunday, also marked the weekend we sorted through the rest of Jolene's things.

Maybe we've reached the bottom of this cycle and we're on our way back up. I hope so.