That strange unexpected moment when grief strikes…


I’m sitting in my office.  I have music playing at a low volume in the background.  My day so far has been busy, full of meetings, and reviews, lots of emails back and forth with questions and analysis of behavior or decisions that are being made by our leadership teams.  Overall, it’s been a good day, so far, but..

I’m feeling a sense of quiet today.  Actually, it’s been a couple of days of me feeling a bit quiet.   I’m not unhappy, although I’m sure some folks would question that based on my behavior.  I’m not though.  I’m just quiet, and introspective.  Been thinking a lot about my life.  I’m happy with life.  I’m content with where I’m heading, what I’ve seen and done, and the people who occupy my time.  Ben has been on my mind for the past couple of days.  I was in the car this weekend, heading to visit with a few of T’s friends when a song came on and it really took all I had to hold myself together.  All I could think about was Ben.  And it was one line in the song that did it… “I’m a broken heart, that’s still beating.”  It just enveloped me swiftly and suddenly.  One minute I was laughing and singing along to the radio, and the next, I was quiet and fighting back the tears.


I hate that grief does that.  You could be happily carrying on with life, and the next thing you know, you’re at the grocery store blubbering over the tomatoes for no other reason than a song they’re playing in the background.  Does it ever just stop?  I don’t know.  I remember, growing up, my mom would occasionally have days where she’d just be sad.  She’d be grieving her own son that she lost.  She’d look through pictures, hold his blanket, show me his ashes.  She’d hide her grief from everyone – except me.  I used to think that was why she still grieved… because she hid it and didn’t just embrace her sadness.  But I’ve done that… I’ve grieved openly… and I still have those moments.  I think that’s just how grief works.  It’s a mean, evil bitch of an emotion… And yet… without it, maybe we’d somehow forget the ones we’ve loved and lost?  Who knows.

All I can say is that I can’t wait to get home and hug my kids.  Time to get back to work.  Much love neverland.  Hugs and Kisses.

lipstick kiss

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