The concensus is that the second year of grieving is worse than the first.
Grief stories and experiences are so different. Yet almost everyone I've talked to with personal experience in this area agrees on this point.
I think that I can see that. Part of me feels like I'm just really beginning to grieve in the last few months.
The first six months were truly horrible. It's painful even to recall the horror of each day, each thought, each memory. I don't mean to use dramatic words, but "horror" isn't an overstatement. Then I had a few months of improvement, mostly just in comparison to the prior six months. But after a few months of quiet, things have gotten harder again.
It's as if the first stage was the survival of a life-threatening injury, and now it's time for the long journey of recovery and rehab.
Today is a good day for me. Spring is in the air, the sun is shining, and I have a sense of optimism. I feel up to the task of the next year, and further, even while anticipating the difficulty.
On bad days, though, I'm not so sure. I feel vulnerable, like a strong blow will drop me. The anniversary had me feeling bruised and beaten for days.
As always, there is nothing to do but wait and see.