Grief is just plain old hard work. Physical work I am a master at. I tend to be too good at physical work most of the time and enjoy taking on more than I think I can handle. Grief is hard emotional work. It overwhelms every part of life and consumes you until you deal with it. There are no coffee breaks and there is no way around it. From day one I have determined to go barreling straight through, facing everything head on rather than sidestepping and dealing with it twenty years later. Eyes wide open, heart revealed, God leading me. On the hard days I resort back to the physical work. My house is now free from a minimum of a dozen full garbage bags plus box after box of junk and recycled items. Anything that wasn't nailed down or was worn out or we haven't used in months is gone. My floors have been swept and reswept and I made the kids join me in cleaning out the classroom that had become a junk collection spot for months. It felt good to turn the emotional work into something I could see the results of. We all laughed at me and how I am, and agreed that Trent must be extra glad to be in heaven now rather than cleaning the dreaded classroom closet.