The sadness just won't leave

I know I'm getting used to living without him, but the sense of sadness that surrounds me just won't take a leave of absence. I manage to get through the day, but it still seems like I'm just going through the motions. Every morning that I get up, he's still not there in his chair. Every night when I go to bed, he's still not there in his chair. Every weekday morning when I leave for work, I say goodbye to his photo, but end up sighing as I make my way to the front door. At times, my sense of loss seems to keep growing instead of dissipating. How is that possible? I've been told and have read in grief books that things get better—it sure does take a long time though. I interact with people all day at work, with friends on weekends, but when I get home, there's no one to interact with any longer. It's very depressing and my common sense tells me that I've got a long road yet ahead of me—ruts and pot holes notwithstanding.

This coming Friday (June 24) looms large in front of me. It will be six months to the day that he died, and not just the date, but to the day as he died on a Friday—as if I could ever forget. In less than three weeks, I leave for Michigan to attend his memorial that Sandie and Eileen (his sisters) are having for him; they live in the Detroit metro area. I spoke to Sandie the other night and she's having a tree-planting ceremony; the tree will be planted in her yard, though I don't know if it will be the front yard or the back yard. And I can't remember the type of tree, even though she told me. All I can remember is that it will bloom once a year. After the ceremony, we will have a barbeque with most of the Healy family that live in that area in attendance. I'm planning on reading the poem I wrote about a couple of articles ago. It's very touching and the first time I read it, I truly felt that Dennis was speaking the words to me. It had that much effect on me, and I'm someone who has never "enjoyed" poetry. It will take all the strength I can muster to get through it without falling apart. And if I do, at least I will be with people who understand what I'm going through, as they are experiencing the same feelings, though at a different level than what I'm feeling. But grief is grief, and we are all being embraced by it.

I'm hopeful that by grieving with the Healys, it will begin to assist with the elimination of the sadness factor that clings to me like Saran wrap. I'll keep you posted.