Grief Has No Expiration Date
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Unfortunately, grief has no expiration date; a time when you know the pain of loss will lessen. You don’t get to toss it when a magic number rolls around. It clings to you like static electricity.
The wind is blowing the tree branches on the patio. I watch them dip and dance from my spot here on the couch. Charlie, of course, is right beside me. And our sweet Abi is no longer with us.
Four Months:
Tomorrow marks four months since Abi died.
I think back on her funny antics. I remember them, but I can’t see them quite as clearly. The image is not as vibrant. The memories flicker and dim, but are thankfully still there. But our sadness lingers because grief has no expiration date, so we never know when it will hurt a bit less.
I suppose this is what time does: the grief begins to fade and keeps us from throwing ourselves off a bridge.
My heart was broken into a million pieces. And like Humpty Dumpty, I don’t think I can ever be put back together again. There will always be an integral piece missing in my life.
Her name was Abigail Rose. And I miss her so very much.
The sharp knife that was symbolically plunged into me the day she died is dulled just a little by the days that have passed since. But it’s always there when I wake up each morning, as grief has no expiration date.
Grief is Universal:
The other night, while I was talking on the phone with Dr. Poteet about Charlie, my voice cracked as I said, “My little dogs have meant the world to me.”
And he said: “I imagine about as much as all my little dogs have meant to me.”
That gave me pause. Love and loss somehow go together. You can’t have one without the other. And of course, he sees death every day at his vet clinic. Grief is universal. It doesn’t belong solely to me, or to you, or anyone else.
Anyone who has loved has also lost. The pain lessens but does not end, because grief has no expiration date.
I could not have loved her more.
Abi captured my heart from the beginning, and we were tethered together throughout the rest of her life.
The hole in my heart can never be filled, and I will miss Abi forever. My mourning may get a bit easier with time, but the anguish I feel has no expiration date.
My Sweet Baby Girl:
Abi, what I would give to have you back for just a bit longer. I could not erase the pain, but I would hold you close to me once again and tell you how much I’ll always love you. You meant the world to me, my sweet, funny girl.
Those first days and weeks, I sat with my sorrow. I held grief in the palm of my hand, but I didn’t know what to do with it. It clung to me and wouldn’t let go. Then it worked itself inside and became a part of me.
I cried until I thought I would float away in a sea of sadness. I wept deep, gut-wrenching tears that emptied the ache of my sadness only briefly.
But the tears came again.
And again.
Because grief has no expiration date.
Going Through the Phases of Grief:
How you go through the phases of grief is different for everyone, unique to your own loss. There is no expiration date for sorrow.
I know some of you are grieving losses as well. You email me, and we chat back and forth, making the load a little less heavy. Which makes me think about that old song “Lean On Me.”
Lean on me when you’re not strong.
And I’ll be your friend,
I’ll help you carry on
For it won’t be long,
‘Til I’m gonna need
Somebody to lean on.
Grief has no expiration date. It doesn’t follow a calendar, soften on a schedule, or disappear because enough time has passed. It settles into the corners of a life and waits—sometimes barely noticeable, other times rising suddenly and without warning.
One day, it may feel manageable, folded into other memories. Another day, it can feel as sharp as the moment our grief began. A passing thought can reopen it, not because healing failed, but because love never left.
Grief is not something you “get over”. It’s something you learn to carry because there is no expiration date for heartbreak.
The world often expects grief to fade quickly, to be wrapped up and put away. But grief doesn’t obey expectations. It changes shape instead.
What once was constant pain may become an ache, a tenderness, or a longing that lives alongside what we remember. We will eventually laugh again, build a life, and still feel grief—both can exist at the same time.
There’s No Expiration Date for Grief:
Grief has no deadline because it is rooted in connection. It endures because the bond mattered. And while time may soften its edges, it never erases the meaning of what was lost.
Grief remains not a sign of weakness, but proof of love that endures, even after everything else has changed. Sometimes we have to lean on someone else for a while till we feel strong enough to stand on our own.
Because grief has no expiration date.
In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing. – Robert Ingersoll
Abi, not Abby, I’m sorry about that.
oh, Brenda, this breaks my heart. I know you loved Abby so very much as I’ve read your blog for many a year……back before you left Texas.
My kitties are my treasures and joy, and I know how it hurts to lose them. I am so very sorry for your great loss.
I lean on you a lot Brenda! Your blog brings me comfort on so many things – over the years you have helped so many ! I hope you know you are an every day HERO in blog world and in life. Abi is watching over you and Charlie for sure. I think my little terrior watches over me too – still since crossing the Rainbow Bridge. Have a great evening Thanks so much for being you and sharin gyour life
Sophie is the 6th dog we’ve had over the years. Thankfully, all of our dogs have lived to old age. It was so devastating to me each time we lost one. But it was a testament to how much we loved them…that we ever adopted another…knowing we were willingly going to go through that grief again. They have brought so much love into our family. My heart hurts for and with you, Brenda…xo
Thank you Brenda yes I lost my kitty and my brother the same day .I still can’t believe this happened .My kitty was a beautiful Maine Coon breed orange in color ,someone could have taken him but he was not friendly with strangers .He just disappeared !
I am still kinda numb about how this happened .
I hope both our grief becomes manageable and Charlie improves ,you need him badly to be there for you .Hugs !
Have a great week !
Oh, Clyde the cat in Texas was I’m almost sure a Maine Coon cat, or at least partially. That was the smartest cat I ever had. He just came to my house one day and the dogs chased him and he fell in the pool I had at the time. Rescued him and loved him from that minute.
Your brain does not know the difference between physical pain and emotional pain.
You’re right. Pain is pain to the brain.
I sit here crying as I read this ,I lost my brother in January everything said here I can relate to .
I too have felt like I died too and just wasn’t buried .My feelings change from day to day as I am sure yours do also .
We are going to get thru this I just don’t know how !
My heart goes out to you .
I also lost my precious kitty I let him outside the night my brother died and I never saw him again .I still do not know what happened if he was stolen or a coyote or hawk got him .We searched and searched for him and never found him.
Life is very unpredictable and sometimes very painful .
I am having a hard time today as I feel you are too !
I pray tomorrow will be better for both of us thanks for sharing .
I needed the tears today ! They are cleansing !
Oh my word, you lost your brother and kitty at the same time. I’m so very sorry.
Like Joe Biden said at the funeral of John McCain “someday a smile will come to your lips before a tear comes to your eye.” I hope that day comes for you soon. I am also in tears reading this.
John McCain is very missed. He was a true patriot in my eyes.
Dear Brenda……sending love and hugs. I wish I could hug you in person.
Thank you.
I still miss and grieve my sweet baby boy Duncan that we lost in ’08. And my sweet baby boy Seamus we lost 3 years ago.
Grief does change it’s faces ~ and so does our response to it.
Doesn’t mean we love them any less ~
Sending you thoughts of comfort, support and hugs ~
bobbie
It’s much better than it was. The first two months I didn’t know how I’d live without her. And it isn’t easy. I miss her terribly.
Eloquent words! Thank you!
You’re quite welcome.
Your posting is timely Brenda as last week passed the 6 month point for me and I spent it so much of it crying my heart out. Six months I thought and still crying like a baby.
Grief is universal and I do feel it important to remember this. Every single day somebody somewhere is losing someone that really mattered to them. Another heart is being broken and another soul somewhere is also now wondering how they will go on. We can separate out from humanity but I think we need remember too that although we are all different … we are also one in the same.
I don’t think of my grief as greater than or less than anyone’s. The only thing that distinguishes my grief in my mind is the fact that it is mine. I accept my lot too. Knowing that a year from now, or even years from now, grief will come to revisit and the tears will flow. No time limit indeed. I don’t look for an end and I don’t look for a new pet (not an answer for me) and I absolutely don’t look for clarification on the why’s of my grief from anyone other than God and myself.
This law of living is something none of us escape and this life/death thing can be the hardest chasm we ever cross. I read a little blip the other day that said, “God’s angels always come is disguise” and I reflected on how incredibly true that is. I do remember to thank God I had my angel and not only did I have him … I recognized him.
And … if all this pain, angst, suffering and outright devastation didn’t come for a plan …then NONE of life has one.
We never know what will happen tomorrow. We just have to live today.
Brenda,
I can barely see through my tears, reading this post. I know you understand. I feel your grief as I feel my own.
Susan
I know. I’m here for you. Lean on me.
four months??? why does it seem like just last week? that was always the worst part for me.
sometimes the wave would come and it felt like in the time that it was. and then I would wake in the morning and it would be as fresh as if it had just happened. it must be our mind allowing us little by little to accept it. and in the end we do because we have to. I am loving the coolness of this day. I have windows open. and it’s a fresh and cleansing air that comes in. wishing it for you and Charlie too.
Acceptance is hard. Very hard. More like getting used to than accepting for me.
Oh Brenda, I’m going on over 2 1/2 years since my Charlie died. I miss him still and I know I always will. My sweet Annie is a love and I’m so glad to have her in my life, but there was only one Charlie Kitty and I will miss him until the day I die. I understand your grief and I share in it! Hugs.
They are all unique, and our love for them is as well.