Anticipatory grief is an absolutely bizarre and insulting piece of the human emotional condition. At best, it is inconvenient. At worst, abso-fucking-lutely devastating. 

I’ve been floating around in this space for a solid 6 ½ years, though I didn’t have the words for it early on. I was just as irritated by it then as I am now. I lamented to my therapist at the time – “But he’s still here! Why am I walking around imagining what it will be like when he’s gone?”

I get mad just thinking about it. Why do our brains feel the need to have a grief trial run? “Oh, let’s make sure she’s already invested in the proper waterproof mascara so when the time comes, she’ll be set.”

And it certainly can’t be, “Well, if we practice enough, then we’ll just be really good at it and it won’t hurt nearly so much down the line! We’ll be ready! Quick, she’s daydreaming about the next vacation – let’s remind her it’s not a given and that it can be gone at any moment! Queue the waterworks!”

Conor and I went to the River for about 24 hours last weekend, with the plan that Preston would join us for a couple of days. That didn’t work out, but those few moments at the River were incredibly difficult. I found myself sobbing and desperately digging through my purse to find more than the single emergency xanax I keep in the small zippered pocket of my wallet. (don’t worry – I now carry at least 3 at all times.)

It felt like watching a movie where someone keeps flashing forward. “Oh here’s the fishing rod he won’t use again, and the fancy filet knife that won’t be need and the granola bars that won’t expire until after he’s gone…” 

I hate the feeling of crying. It isn’t cathartic for me. I don’t like the way my breathing hitches and my face gets splotchy and my nose runs. And when I can’t turn it off, it just makes me angry and makes me cry even more. (side note: yes, I am aware that these are things I should probably work out with my therapist, but we’ve had more pressing matters of late) 

So I really don’t see why we can’t just save the grief for the sad bits. If grief is supposed to be helpful – to help us work through the trauma of losing a love one – let’s just let it serve its stated purpose, instead of trying to come on stage entirely too early. It’s rude.

If you were wondering how I was holding up the answer is, “Not that great!” but I’m getting a lot of solid sad practice in, so I’ll be an expert soon enough.