Grief is some tricky shit.

I apologize for the language... I tried to think of any other phrase that would set the stage for this blog; for what I’m feeling... somehow “grief is some tricky stuff” didn’t cut the mustard.

I’m fairly cerebral in my life processes; meaning that I tend to make sense of things by “thinking it out.” That is, I try to work everything out in my brain. If I can explain it away, with a reasonable argument and step-by-step analysis, I can process and move on.

I can’t make sense of what’s happening in my heart.

There are varying levels of grief. You can grieve the loss of a loved one (death). Grieve the loss of a loved one (divorce). Grieve the loss of your skinny jeans (just getting fat).

Obviously that last one is super-superficial.

It’s strange how I’ve processed grief in the past. When my grandparents and great aunts and uncles (who treated me like a grandchild) passed, I think I was still too young to realize what this meant. They were elderly; many in the stages of dementia and disease. What I didn’t realize is that while I lost a grandparent, my folks lost a parent.

And, while I haven’t lost a parent, I’ve lost a parent-in-law.