A suitcase full of rocks, or a suitcase full of feathers

This I heard today:

"Everyone says you'll get through this. How do you get through this? Look at it like this: Grief is like a suitcase at the end of your bed. Every day, you must carry it with you, without fail. Some days, it feels like it is filled with rocks. Some days, it feels like it's light as a feather. That's how you get through this - when there are more days of feathers than rocks"

Grief can feel like an elephant is sitting on your chest - like a panic attack. I misplaced the scrapbook that had all the pictures I had left of you guys one day. I ran through the house like a maniac trying to find it. Normally, I would say "it'll turn up" and go do something else, but for some reason on that day at that time, I *had* to find that scrapbook. I finally did find it, but the elephant didn't climb off my chest for a very long time.

I felt something similar when my house burnt to the ground in May of 2012. The day you were taken from me, that was surreal - it took a few days to sink in. That particular elephant still sits on my chest and I still carry the "grief rocks" or "grief feathers"every day. I do love you. I always have and I always will