"Surely, this would have been the day for tears? Yet no, no tears came."
This is exactly how I feel as the first anniversary of my son's death came and went and my son's yahrzeit approaches (different dates, solar and lunar calendars.) Instead of tears, I feel I'm dragging a giant heavy weight around. It is, indeed, exhausting.
Absolutely this. I was blown away by it and by little I had known to expect it. Even now, when I get a wave of grief, it tends to be felt as extreme exhaustion. Often takes me several days to work out why I am so tired. Then I remember. There is peace, for me, in knowing that this is my grief and that it will come and go.
"Surely, this would have been the day for tears? Yet no, no tears came."
This is exactly how I feel as the first anniversary of my son's death came and went and my son's yahrzeit approaches (different dates, solar and lunar calendars.) Instead of tears, I feel I'm dragging a giant heavy weight around. It is, indeed, exhausting.
I am exhausted. I wish it was more widely known that this heaviness exists.
Absolutely this. I was blown away by it and by little I had known to expect it. Even now, when I get a wave of grief, it tends to be felt as extreme exhaustion. Often takes me several days to work out why I am so tired. Then I remember. There is peace, for me, in knowing that this is my grief and that it will come and go.