Tears in my ears

A woman who loses her husband is called a widow.  A man who loses his wife is called a widower.  A child who loses his parents is called an orphan.  But there are no words to describe a parent who loses a child.  I guess it is indescribable.
Many people have tried to define the process of grief.  I figure I am as much an expert as anyone else,  so I am making up my own stage of grief.  Right now I am in the   'Tears in my ears' stage.  That means that most of the time I am doing well.  I am resuming normal activities.  I am investing my emotional energy in other people.  And I am thankful for what I have.
So far this month my daily thanksgivings have included...

Touchdowns
Days off from school
Rainy days
My Mom's In Touch group
Pee Wee Football
High School Cross Country teams
New Friends
Old Friends
Nice people who leave coupons on the grocery shelves
Lunch dates with my husband
Soldiers
Meeting Jan Karon
My nephews
My daughter
My husband
Fall colors
Having hair

Some days I struggle to be thankful (having hair?), but I can always find SOMETHING.  It's at night when my grief tends to bubble up to the surface.  In the dark, when no one is watching,  it's easy to stop focusing on what I have and start thinking about what I've lost. I miss my girl and I miss the part of me that she took with her.  And I cry--silent, private tears that roll across my cheeks and into my ears.

After three years, life and grief go on.  It used to scare me when people told me it would take years to grieve my loss.  I didn’t want to feel bad for years.  Now I am comforted by the thought that there is no time schedule.  If I am sad or angry or depressed, it’s okay.  And if I am having fun and laughing and looking towards the future with joyful anticipation, that’s okay too.