The New Day of the Week

For whatever reason, Saturday has become the day of the week that grief rears it's head a little more prominently.  I suspect it comes on the heels of a week filled with work, co-workers, customer service and more or less tamping my emotions down. Putting on my game face so my pain doesn't make others uncomfortable.

When the weekend gets here I'm overflowing with unspent tears.  I'm learning to expect it, deal with it, allow it. But even more importantly, I'm learning to welcome it. It's a release and a much needed time for me to reflect and heal. It's my time to not worry so much about everyone else and take care of myself. There is no sense of wallowing in self pity as much as permitting myself an outlet for my grief. If I don't get dressed, oh well. If nothing productive gets done, it'll be there tomorrow. If my weeping disturbs my family, they are learning to move on with their lives and check back with me one of the other 6 days of the week. Tomorrow is a always a new day and I typically wake much more able to face the day if I take the time to honor Josh, my sorrow, my loss.

Butch calls it Sadderday.

How aptly put.