Waking up to see if things might shift, if they might start to get lighter, only to live the same circumstances again and again– Groundhog Day. A cycle grieving hearts know all too well. For each day we wake up and relive the emptiness of our loved ones’ final days. Each day we wake up to realize again and again, they are still gone– still missing.
We wake up to realize the same hole, the same vacant spot, is there– still. We don’t have to wonder if a shadow will be seen because a darkness, a silhouette, is the only thing visible where someone we loved once stood.
We don’t get a choice of if or when grief will come and go, if it will leave earlier than expected or stay longer than we’d like. Once it comes, it stays– always.
It doesn’t matter the day, or the year, the results are the same.
A shadow.
Continued darkness.
Continued cold.
Continued longing for the light and warmth.
A shadow, always.
We don’t need a fuzzy little woodchuck to tell us what lies ahead. We wake up each day with that knowing, with that prediction.
A shadow, today and forever.
A shadow, the silhouette of someone we lost– their replacement.
A shadow called grief.
