“Sometimes I think of you and I feel giddy. Memory makes me lightheaded, drunk on champagne. All the things we did. And if anyone has said this was the price I would have agreed to pay it. That surprises me; that with the hurt and the mess comes a shift of recognition. It was worth it. Love is worth it.”
You’ll get over it …
It’s the clichés that cause the trouble. To lose someone you love is to alter your life for ever. You don’t get over it because “it” is the person you loved. The pain stops, there are new people, but the gap never closes. How could it? The particularness of someone who mattered enough to grieve over is not made anodyne by death. This hole in my heart is in the shape of you and no-one else can fit it. Why would I want them to?”
― Jeanette Winterson, Written on the Body
Speaking from personal experience (Half a century so pay attention young folks! 😉) there is no time limit to grieving the loss of a loved one. We are each unique including the capacity for love.
I miss my father as if he had just died yesterday. He died March 22, 2012. Some days are better than others. He was the life of th party even when there was no party.
My dad loved music and he would have loved Adele. He was classically trained and knew a great voice when he heard it even if the songs were not something he would typically listen to. After Dad died I just couldn’t bear to listen to music period. Ever. Four years of being unable to listen to music of any type. Adele’s latest album for some inexplicable reason spoke to me like to other artist. Healing continues daily as the void in my life becomes less painful to bear.