One year down. Rest of my life to go.
So I did it. I managed to survive the first year. I haven't always wanted to. In fact for a large chunk of it I would have preferred it if I didn't. But survive it I have. I haven't done much else. This has definitely been a twelve month period of surviving rather than living but I am still here. Getting here has been very different than I expected. I touched on some of these points in the Myth vs Reality post - https://unhinged-ramblings-man.blogspot.com/2020/05/grief-myth-vs-reality.html - but I wanted to use this post to reflect on the last twelve months and what I hope for the future ahead. The biggest surprise, and I think this is unusual, is how little I've cried. The tears just haven't come. The heartbreak has - a gut-wrenching, almost vomit inducing pain - but the tears haven't followed. I've cried more for each of my cats that I've lost than for Roz. I have no idea why this is - perhaps part of me still doesn't believe it really happened