Yesterday the tears came; not just a few, but a torrent, I felt I was drowning.
We sang Amazing Grace in Church, a song I chose for Paul's funeral.
I was taken back to that morning, the depth of grief so immense I could hardly breathe. It was like I'd been kicked in the stomach.
Grief will do that, come at the most unexpected and unwanted times. It knocks you sideways, throws you to the ground then tramples all over you with no explanation. Then it leaves you to get up on wobbly shakey legs, pale and worn out, bruised and beaten but alive.
I suppose it was a good thing to cry and maybe let in God's Amazing Grace.
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