When you bruise your knee, strain an ankle, break a leg, or are suffering from a serious disease, in most of the cases the pain will stop eventually. So, while you're suffering from sometimes almost unbearable pain, you can find some consolation in the fact that time will make it better. Everyone who's suffering from a mean toothache or a migraine right now might think otherwise. But it really does.
The same is true for break ups. The first few days, you just want to die right there. You don't want to get up, not even wake up for that matter. Because every night you dream about being together again and then you wake up and when you realize that it's over, you're going through the same pain again. And again. Every morning. It really doesn't feel like it will ever get any better. Or stop altogether. But everyone who's gone through a few breakups knows, that it does get better. There comes the day when you wake up and you realize:"I'm not in love with that person anymore." It does not hurt to think about him anymore. It does not hurt to meet him. Or even to see him with his new partner. Thanks to time, good friends, and, also helpful, a not insignificant amount of alcoholic beverages. And, the best way to get over him: the new guy you fell in love with who is even more awesome that the old one.
But death of a beloved person is a whole different story. There are some things in life that cannot be replaced. Ever. We only have one father, one mother, two grannies, and two grandpas. One spouse that we want to spend the rest of our lives with (debatable, I know), a limited number of siblings and best friends. Pets, favorite movie stars, teachers, and other people who are an important part of our lives. At least for a certain amount of time. And when they die, it's final. You can't replace your father with a new father. Your first dog with your second. You can't replace your first love who you knew since first grade, married after high school, raised your children with, counted each penny to be able to buy food and then, a house with. You can't replace someone with whom you shared that many memories. That special person who made you feel like no one else did. Who knew you like no one else. It's like trying to substitute a 3,000 year old redwood tree with a seedling. Tearing down St. Peter and put Grace Cathedral in its place. It's just not the same.
And then you're stuck in this dilemma that is slowly tearing your heart out. You don't want to forget this person. You want to keep the memory alive. But that prevents time from doing what it does best: making it better. Letting you heal. By constantly refreshing your memories of the person, you reopen the new tissue that had just started to grow over your wound. Grief sucks. Big time.
