“How are you doing?” asked my friend’s husband at the one month mark of her death.

“I’m better each day. How about you?”

He answered, “I get a little better each day too.  I’ll talk to a few of her friends, my father-in-law, and even though each conversation is encouraging, it’s still painful.”

I weep.

Today is a cry day.

Grief is illogical. I’m good one day thinking, “God you have released me from this sadness.” Only to experience the opposite the next day.  At times I feel a depth of anxiety that looks like I need meds. Could this be prolonged grieving? It feels prolonged. No, one month is not prolonged grief.

I accept that she is gone but the disruption in my life has been the hardest to overcome. She was a consistent part of daily life. We collaborated on business, we talked about family, but best of all, we encouraged each other in our love for Jesus. No wonder the persistence of heartbreak, there is no quick replacement for a meaningful friendship. Six patterns common to deep friendships:

  1. Constant/frequent communication
  2. Paying full and undivided attention to one another
  3. Being there when each individual needs social support
  4. Praise and constructive criticism
  5. Conversing to find a solution to a problem or issue
  6. Understanding of the other person’s emotions and needs.

Yes, I can check off each one. No wonder the hurt is deep. These 6 items characterized our friendship. It all makes sense. While I’m struggling to make sense of my reactions I need to try to understand myself. How do I grieve when things don’t make sense? How do I experience great loss?  Where is God in this?  Time to dig in. Know thyself and accept thy grief.

I woke up today with an awareness that I didn’t mourn. I awoke praising God. This habit that has been my consistent routine has come back to me almost instinctively.  Journaling I wrote (and really meant it) “I will see my friend again and I can praise God that I have experienced true friendship!”

I am thinking of Jesus, about life with Jesus, and sifting my thoughts through His lens.

My grief is at bay.

My focus is changing.

Read part one: here.