The Moments

I've ridden the waves of grief for one year and three months.
I've had nights where I laid in bed sobbing, shaking violently while my heart caved in and my chest felt like it was going to collapse.
I've had days where I lock myself in my room and let silent streams of tears flow down my cheeks, not bothering to wipe them away.
I've had hours where I laugh uncontrollably at memories and silly pictures.
And then I have moments.
Moments were I can feel her in me.  I see her likeness when I'm barefoot.  I see her likeness in the reddening of my knuckles as I wash dishes.  I see her likeness in the moments when I catch myself laughing at something she would have liked.  I see her likeness when my chest swells as the leaves swirl across the pavement.
Sometimes a moment makes up for the hurt.  A moment where she feels so close, its as though she's still here.
And sometimes a moment can hurt more than all the pain I've felt in a year and more.  A moment were her absence is wholly and completely felt like a resounding wave of an echo that touches every inch of the earth.
But with the smiles come the memories of love and laughter and every happy event we attended together.  And with the tears come the realization that I had the blessing of having someone I'd miss so much once she left.