The worst time for me, and I've heard this is not uncommon, was the first 18 months. When I heard that time frame originally I had two thoughts. First, it's so much longer than I thought grieving was supposed to take. I did not know what I was in for. Second, far away as it was, at least there was some horizon out there.

I wish I could say I handled the grief well to start. I did not. I ran. But I've found since not only I can live with grief, I must. The following is a piece I wrote regarding that process, at least as it affected me:

I tried to run from grief.

At first I thought I could not handle grief, so it manhandled me.  I thought I could not be with it, so I did all I could think to do.  I ran.  I tried to escape.  When I could not run fast enough I biked.  I could lose myself in the pumping of the pedals, in the rhythm of the road.  But as I stopped sweaty and worn, I found myself there with grief close in tow. 

I ran to the bottle hoping drink could dull the pain. Try as I might I found it could only dull so much.  One night near blackout drunk grief found me and I knew drinking was no escape, so again I ran, but with another problem as falling into the bottle is far easier than getting out. I struggle with that still.

I ran into a relationship, though one ill advised.  When I was with her I could ignore my troubles, but as that relationship fell apart, so too did I.  Low as I was before, I found myself lower still.

Tired of running I've turned around.  Now I sit with grief.  Though I do not languish there, nor stay forever, I let it come and do not run away.  Hello there, welcome grief.  I see you've come for a while.  I am not grief, it does not own me, though I sit with it.  So now as I hear happy birthday I still cry recalling her, but they are beautiful tears. Welcome.

I've now accepted you do not get over grief. On that subject I am reminded of a quotation shared at my sister's funeral:

You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp. - Anne Lamott

I think I will always have this broken heart. I do not think anything will ever be the same. But I am learning to dance with this limp.

I wish so deeply that there were something I could say to take your pain away. There is not. Words do not work that way. Grief does not work that way. I have read on grief extensively. I have written my share as well. In all mediums I have encountered this post stands above them all. Though I can't say it helped in the sense of lessening pain, it did give me an understanding of what I was going through. I hope you too might find perspective in it as I did. I wish I had more to offer. I wish I had more to say. I have said all I am able. Be as well as you can. You cannot expect more of yourself than that.