How we handle grief is a choice, isn't it?

Grief has come into my life like a fast moving train headed on a coarse to oblivion.  We can let it derail our lives or we can choose to take a cushioned ride in the arms of those who love us.  I have chosen the later, seeking comfort from family and friends and with time spent in quiet reflection.

Intermittently, triggered by a thought, a sight or a memory, I have been overcome with bouts of sobbing, gasping for air along with the accompanying tears, running my mascara and puffing up my eyes.

I have asked my psyche, my spirituality and my body to guide me to begin healing from the loss of my Willie.  Other recent losses, some of which I have stuffed along the way joined in the pool of emotion surrounding me.  Might I drown from too much to bear or could I take them on collectively?  Once again, a choice.  Once again, I chose the later.

Its only been ten days today.  I amped up my work out.  I fed myself the healthiest foods.  I cleared my mind at night seeking dreamless sleep. I looked at photos on my phone. 

Only two days after we lost him, I retraced the steps we took on our joyful daily trips to Poop Park, frequently crying into the soft paper towel I had taken along for this sole purpose.  I reached into my pocket and found the crumpled plastic bag I had always carried with me, never using it since he refused to poop in front of his MMM. He would with his DDD, an oddity we had observed over his life.  I had always giggled to myself thinking that it was a guy-girl thing, a shyness over bodily functions us humans experience for awhile when we are in lfirst in love.