Grief Doesn't Shrink—You Grow Around It

When Brent died, I kept waiting for the grief to get smaller.

That's what everyone implied would happen, right? "Time heals." "It gets easier." "You'll move on."

So I waited. And waited. And the grief just... sat there. Same size. Same weight. Same Brent-shaped hole in my life.

I started thinking something was wrong with me.