How Grief is like Compound Butter at Thanksgiving Dinner

Last week, on Thanksgiving Day we had a discussion about compound butter. I know, deep stuff. Compound butter is when you add other things to butter and spend a lot of time mixing it, basically. 

I thought about compound butter as I drove home from a very nice day spent with family. The food was amazing, the company was pretty good and there were some good laughs provided mostly by children being children. 

I thought about being four and half years out from losing Justin, our fifth Thanksgiving and fifth holiday season without him. Every year there is an empty chair, and every year it becomes more normal that he isn't here. The truth however, is that it isn't easier. My theory about why, is that it is like compound butter.

Every year there are new things mixed in and they change how things feel and how we respond to it. There have been a lot of things mixed in to make this compound trauma over these years. Each new thing that is added requires a new adjustment and the new things can't just be removed any more than you could separate the cinnamon from the butter after it is mixed in. 

Our butter has my grief, the girls' grief, Chloe's separation anxiety, Sydney being away at college, Sydney's health issues, Macy's ADHD and struggles at school. It has a sprinkling of anxiety, fear, loneliness, and depression. We have poured in heartbreak, melanoma, and narcissistic trauma.

As I thought about all of these things that have compounded over these years, I also remembered on this Thanksgiving holiday that there are a lot of good things that have been added to the butter as well. 

It has been mixing together over these years to create what we have now. My life doesn't look anything like I pictured it, before, but is is mine. It is complex and sad. It is rich and traumatic. It is hard to take most of the time. but it is still filled with love. 

It doesn't ever get easier it just changes, and I expect year after year it will be a different mixture of happy and sad.