How much time is enough, what's too long, what's too little, to grieve a loss such as this? Well, honestly, I have processed my husband's loss every night ever since it happened last December, every night I meditate, or I write, or I blog, or I call a supportive someone. I have kept a candlelight vigil for my emotions to find expression, held them long into the night, cried to the ocean as I walked along the shores like a ghost, I have howled at the moon begging for another chance, I have connected with his spirit, heard his voice felt his energetic embrace, I have screamed in anguish, gritted teeth, danced, I have sung him songs of my love and sorrow, I have birthed our second daughter, I have doubted the spiritual world, I have experienced the spiritual world, and here I stand nearly a year later feeling more whole and beginning to see myself emerging from this. But, how long is enough? Well, last week I re-read a piece I had written a week before and realized I was tired. Tired of writing about it. Slight panic, is this what it feels like to let go of yet another layer of the heaviness of this grief? Is this what it feels like to inch closer to accepting him as a spiritual being, as a guide to me now? Is this what it feels like to stop wishing for things to be as they were? Yes, it seems so. I move through my fear of shedding yet another layer of this, and stand back and look at where I've been, all that I've done. Ok, he knows if he were here physically I would be just as in love with him as I always was, but he's not here in that way anymore, I know he wants to see me healing. I know he wants me to feel whole again. I stand tall, I stand proud. There is light. Thank you.