This one afternoon, probably a year or so after my mom died, I was so wretchedly sad--I don't think anything bad happened that day, I just really missed her. All I wanted was to go home and have a good cry. I got off the bus from work, and as I walked into the elevator, I was thinking to myself if you can just make it to your apartment, then you will survive. I wasn't even sure I could make it all the way up to the eighth floor without bursting into tears.
In the elevator, I must have been staring at the floor, because at one point during the forty second ride, I looked up at the wall of the elevator and saw this tiny little light bulb and a plaque that said
"Help Is on the Way." I looked at this little sign and it was like it had been put there for me, on this very bad day (has anyone else read that kid's book The Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day where the kid keeps saying he's going to move to Australia?); Anyway, when I saw the sign, my breath caught and I got this very powerful sense that someone was watching out for me. Even if it was a sign of my own brain's crazy making, I needed a sign, to believe that there would be a better day SOMEWHERE OUT THERE. And strangely, it made me feel a lot better.
So what I'm trying to say is that no matter how sad you are, it will get better. It will get better a tiny bit at a time until all those tinys add up to a lot better, and then you'll start to notice that you can breathe again. Someday you will be happy again, you just have to believe that it will happen, and grieve, and realize the magnitude of your loss while still keeping faith in the magic of time passing, because that is a cliche for a reason. Time may not heal all wounds, but it makes them hurt less and less until you can bear it. It makes you forget more and more your old life, which is horrible and sad in its own way, but is what you need to eventually move on.
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