The seventh month mark has come and gone since Will left us. The grief is always there, sometimes more intense. What I've found is to simply let the grief in; don't resist or try to deny it. When I'm open to it, when I expect it, when I embrace it, it simply gives it less power over me.
My mom always said that death was part of life, not something to be afraid of or dreaded. Death is the ultimate end of everyone's journey; regardless what bus they're on, the destination is always the same. We return to the source from where we came. For some, unfortunately it is too early on. That is at least the perspective of those of us journeyers still here.
One of the best things we can do is to honor our loved one with happy memories.
Just last week, I went over some friends for the holiday - the same friends Will and I used to spend it with. We talked about those "good ol' times" of years passed - when he made the lizard shaped bread, and when one of the pies slipped out of the pie plate and landed in a snow bank. We made a toast to him at dinner, and in the final analysis it was a happier event than I would have thought. I realized much healing had already taken place as I now look back with nostalgia and am grateful that I was blessed with all those years we had together.