Grief is a funny bugger isn’t it?
I find myself walking along in the sunshine, feeling generally quite happy with life and actively enjoying the cool air and the warm sun on my face, while simultaneously aware of the sadness weighing on my solar plexus.
If I shift my attention to it for a moment tears prick my eyes, as though they’ve been sitting there all along just waiting for the chance to flow before deciding that heading down the hill to meet a friend, or strolling in the sunshine with the dog, is the perfect time.
And then I take a deep breath, and it eases.
But the weight remains.