Another day

The sun rose this morning and I blinked my sore, tired eyes and looked out the window at the bright blue sky. Another day. Two weeks since my brother died. Seems like a thousand years. Or yesterday. But the morning came and passed, the afternoon was peaceful and quiet, the evening looks to be the same. One day is hellish, the next is calm. Grief is strange, that’s for sure. 

But we press on. And each day has it’s own joys, too. Joy in the midst of sorrow. Isn’t that just the way of life?