I must mention one more thing. It may not be the last I speak of Gronk during my mourning period, but I have to mention it either way:
“Why do we get animals if we know we will go through this one day?” I sobbed to the boys.
“The good outweighs the bad. Our time with them is worth the grief,” Max said.
He’s right; our time with them is worth the grief. The problem is, I don’t think they’re comparable.
Grief is a heavy, thick feeling of dread and sadness that is not spread out through the years, but dealt to us all at once. It is a weighted armful of darkness that we have to spread around ourselves. We do this with each other’s help, support, in mind-over-matter types of motions with our weak souls that eventually dulls then strengthens again. It’s tiring, and although I’ve had more than my fair share, I’m not used to it.
Would I do it all again? Yes. I still don’t think we can compare the good we had with Gronk with the grief we are experiencing now.
Time is what we need. Just time.
Teresa Forester Adams 