Grief swirls

Mom, cousin Heather, Carol Leigh

Grief swirls. Grief swirls in and out of my days. It comes and goes. I do ok, then something reminds me. This week it was the sad passing of a colleague's spouse, expected at some point I understand, after a long battle with cancer. My heart goes out to her. Then, there it is, my still incredible grief at the loss of my sister Carol. Fuck cancer. I still miss her so much, can't imagine my life without her in it, yet struck by how I've moved on, ache less... yet still. Yesterday I was reflective, yet this morning, as I write this, the tears come. I miss you sweet Carol Leigh.
Dozing this morning, there was a story on the radio about the level of care in residential care facilities in BC, and continuity of care from caregivers. In my half-awake state, my subconscious grabs at memories, attaches to mom, and I half-wake up thinking she is still alive, that I could go see her. There was this image of her, in her care facility, where they took such great care of her, and it seemed so real. It was real. But it's not. It's not today. I miss you my sweet mom.
So, grief swirls, in and out, weak and strong, hidden and omni-present...
I am so grateful that I have long understood that grief is a process, that we all experience it differently, not to judge it, just to be with it, process it, respect it, even embrace it. Resisting it just hurts more.