I'm not so sure that time helps with loss.
It could be that there are just periods of abandonment of the total revelation of the loss. Like an ebb and flow type of thing. As if traveling a river thinking "okay, this isn't so bad" and from time to time you come upon a waterfall and you think to yourself…crap.
I believe this is how the grieving process goes. But then I'm not so sure it is a process. Maybe just a prickly road that you have to travel barefoot. Trying not to step on anything that will hurt too much. But it's impossible to avoid the really painful stuff all of the time.
I have no coping mechanisms really. I mean, you could say I drown myself in distraction…and that would be true.
As I put Meara and Ainsley to bed tonight they insisted on sleeping together in the same bunk for the second night in a row. They also insist that I stay with them until they fall asleep.
My brother came to live with us when I was eight years old. When we moved to Bradenton Ben was old enough for us to have bunk beds in the same room. And I remember after Mom and Dad would turn off the lights he would come crawling into my bed. And if he didn't…I'd call out and ask if he wanted to snuggle. We were "best buds".
I hope Meara and Ainsley feel the same way about each other. And I hope that Meara and Ainsley have each other to hold onto long after I'm here.